


Nerd

by coeurastronaute



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, HSAU, Lexa is a nerd, anya is a good big sister, clarke is a hot cheerleader, clarke is forward, gus is a good friend, lexa is a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-22 18:39:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13770150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coeurastronaute/pseuds/coeurastronaute
Summary: Lexa is just trying to finish high school and get away from overbearing parents and her cool big sister's legacy. She develops a bit of a crush on the cheerleader who waits tables after school while tutoring. She's convinced she doesn't have time for things like crushes, but Clarke has other plans.





	1. Like

In her family, people did things. There was no such thing as idleness and there certainly weren’t any distractions of any kind, whatsoever. Her older sister rowed and did JROTC. Her father built companies. Her mother conducted research funded by grants that numbered into the millions as the cornerstone of a burgeoning field of study. In her family, people did not just do things. Rather, they did important things that held weight to them.

That was fine. Lexa did things too. She ran the school paper and lettered in track and field. She also volunteered at the library and took advanced classes, did mathematic bowl and debate club, headed the computer club and was secretary of Model UN. Lexa did lots of things, kept very busy, and despite a lacking social life, was moderately fulfilled by everything high school and her parents deemed vital for her survival. She was not crafted to carry the Woods’ name and worry about a thing like a social life.

Her sister did it all. She had the personality and desire to do that. She had lots of friends and everyone loved her. She was perfect, but in the not nerdy way, in the way that everyone enjoyed being near. Lexa wasn’t quite as well-developed. She just thought about things in a different way, and the only person that got it was Anya.

Throughout the school, she was unknown. She was seen as quiet and determined, focused in her studies and not much else. People who had her in their classes since kindergarten couldn’t even pinpoint when her birthday was or what she must have done after school activities, but they knew she was brilliant and almost nerdy if she wasn’t so polished and with the last name Woods.

Not many acknowledged the truth though– that Lexa Woods was, in fact, the largest nerd on the planet. She only learned that fact later in her high school career. She was quiet and smart and kept her head down in some ways. No one knew her and she wanted it to be like that, so that when she left that town, it wouldn’t hurt. She could start her life and everything would be new. She could be anything, not just Anya’s little sister.

That was why she studied and hoped and fought her way forward– to escape.

“Haven’t you read all of the books in the world already?” a booming voice interrupted her lunch novel as a tray took its place across from her at the empty table.

“There was more than four written, you know,” she countered, finishing her page, though slightly distracted.

“I read one once. It was terrible.”

“Spot Visits the Farm doesn’t count as a great literary work.”

“You’re funny,” the football player countered as he picked up the first of three giant sandwiches on his plate.

Lexa watched him take a big bite before returning her gaze back to her book, disinterested in talking to him for numerous reasons. He took it well enough, content to eat and support his lumbering, all-state linebacker frame.

And then the food ran out.

“So there’s–”

“We don’t have to do the whole friends thing,” she interrupted whatever was coming next. “I told you I’d tutor you, and the rates are lower than other people with lower GPA’s than mine, so we don’t–”

“Wow,” he chuckled. “You really need to lighten up a bit.”

“I know Anya asked you to look after me. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“She didn’t,” he lied, shaking his head as he finished his third milk.

If she didn’t think about it too much, Lexa liked Gus, the senior prospect with offers from real big schools that wanted to make his dreams come true. She liked that he was nice enough to sit with her, and he was probably dumb enough to actually think it was okay. She didn’t mind him much, and when he asked for tutoring, she knew she didn’t have the time, but she also knew she needed to be out of her house, and any other excuse was better than the quiet stifling that existed without her big sister.

But he represented something she just couldn’t understand. She did sports, she lettered in track and field, she had a letterman, never worn, neatly pressed in her closet at home. She just couldn’t understand everything that went with being a football player and not caring about grades or school or having hope in such a crazy future. He just… Gus had one plan for the next few years of his life, and it was simply to play football for as long as possible. She couldn’t understand it, and yet she envied it. There was a freedom he had that she couldn’t grasp, though she knew she wanted.

Thankfully, the bell rang before she could really dive into the psyche that led him to sitting with her.

“I’ll meet you in the library after practice,” she said as she gathered her books.

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Can we go to Oscar’s? I really need to snack while my brain chows down on some numbers.”

“You’ll be distracted.”

“I’ll be focused.”

Lexa was untouchable with Anya as her sister and half of the senior class looking after her in some way, but she never put herself out there to earn invites anywhere like Oscar’s. She didn’t know how to handle that place.

“You’re buying snacks.”

“Perfect,” he grinned with a nod. “See you later.”

As he left, Lexa shook her head and sighed heavily, glancing around the cafeteria at the occasional glance of people inevitably wondering while she was talking to him. With a pursing of her lips, she adjusted the strap of her backpack and moved toward class.

* * *

Though the school year was fresh, the leaves were already falling and changing colors. Fall came in quickly, and the frost of morning could be felt throughout the day. Just a month in, and already a familiar rhythm came to the land. Preseason gradually led to football Fridays in which everyone lost their mind at games. Tests started to be administered. Grades began to form. Cliques melded and everything remained nearly exactly as it had been just the year before.

Except that there was something different about being a junior, Lexa decided, as she sat at the booth at Oscar’s after debate club, the table covered with her calculus book and a milkshake. There was something so very different and yet she couldn’t put her finger on it.

All at once, the dull noise of the diner magnified as a new herd of teens entered, fresh from practice and full of angst and hormones. For just a moment, Lexa watched them, oddly confused as to how she was the same age.

“Hey, sorry I’m a little late,” Gus greeted her, tossing his bags on the ground. “I’m just going to go order and then I’ll be ready, I swear.”

“No worries,” she smiled tightly, still wondering how she let her sister guilt her into helping him, and how said sister managed to get the dumb jock to ask and act as her guardian in her absence.

“Can I get you something?”

“Fries would be good. I’m starving.”

“Tough night in debate club?”

“Definitely,” she agreed, not noticing his joke.

With a shake of his head, he moved toward the counter, leaving Lexa to survey the diner and the new bodies that filled it up. All at once they seemed to descend. A gaggle of theater kids hung dramatically in the back booth, laughing loudly and reciting lines to something. Some burnouts who liked to smoke from old soda cans waited for food and giggled. A group of friends laughed and debated something serious. Football players filled a few tables while cheerleaders weren’t far. It was a little slice of their school, and Lexa really didn’t know where she situated herself within it. She was always just Anya’s kid sister, dragged along and ignored for the most part.

“It’ll just be a bit,” Gus interrupted the existential dread slowly forming in Lexa’s head as he took his seat across from her. “Let’s start with English, if that’s okay?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Apparently, colleges require writing samples.”

“Where are you applying?”

“I’m kind of waiting to see how the scouts go,” he shrugged, pushing around hair that fell in his eyes as he dug in his bag for a book and notebook. “Last season they said I needed to put on weight.”

“Really?” Lexa gasped slightly at the idea of the behemoth of a man not being big enough already.

“Yeah,” Gus chuckled. “So I put on a ton of muscle. I think it’ll help. Even a D2 school. Somewhere so I don’t have to pay for it. My mom couldn’t afford it, no matter how hard she tries.”

All at once, Lexa wondered how she could have misunderstood someone so fundamentally. And yet as she stared at him as if he were an alien, she felt even worse.

“We can definitely work on this stuff then. Whenever you want.”

“Don’t go looking at me like charity,” he warned. “I have an okay GPA, just remedial classes. I’m not dumb. I just have a reading thing where my brain works weird.”

“I do too,” Lexa shrugged.

“What?”

“I’m dyslexic. I mix up letters and stuff. It just means I work harder than most. No judgement here. You needed help and you asked for it,” she shrugged, nonplussed. “This keeps me out of the house and gives me a little extra cash. That’s it.”

“Alright,” he smiled and nodded.

“And you can report to Anya that you kept me from whatever it is she’s afraid will happen to me in her absence.”

“True.”

“Shut up. What are we working on?”

Just like that, they dove into Macbeth. Lexa enjoyed the challenge of teaching it to someone, and for the most part, he was only minorly distracted, which was a huge plus. Between friends asking questions and the team getting loud, Gus did his best to listen, and maybe even got into it after a bit.

This was who Lexa would become then, she realized, as no one still looked at her, and Gus introduced her to people she’d known for years through her sister, as his tutor. She was the nerdy tutor. And for a moment, in the middle of all the people, she was okay with that, because she had a role to fill.

“Okay, sorry for the wait,” someone interrupted a discussion about Banquo to put a basket of fries and drink to the side of their notebooks. “We got a little busy there. Fries and a Cherry Coke for the lady, and a double double with extra peppers and onion rings for the little man. Can I get you guys anything else?”

“I think this is good,” Gus smiled.

“I didn’t order a drink,” Lexa stared at it before looking at Gus and then finally at the waitress.

“I know,” she smiled, wide and blinding. “But you just seemed like a Cherry Coke kind of girl. On the house.”

“Thanks Clarke,” Gus offered when all his tutor could do was gape and push up her glasses as she stared.

“Yeah, no problem, big guy.”

The waitress stole a fry and offered a wink before disappearing.

“Thank you!” Lexa finally blurted, loud and awkward and all at once to the retreating figure, who politely offered another smile over her shoulder.

For just a moment, she tried to recollect her wits. She stared at her cup before eagerly taking a sip. She’d never given Cherry Coke much of a thought, but the waitress was right or Lexa was having a stroke and she didn’t know it. Either option.

Gus’ chomping and general inhaling of his food brought her back to reality. She met his eyes and he wiggled his eyebrows and smirked. Lexa felt the tips of her ears burn as she sought a sly glance at the waitress before snapping her eyes back to the task at hand.

“That’s Clarke. You met her before?” Gus pressed between bites.

“Um who? What? Yeah, no. Yeah I don’t think so,” Lexa shook her head and furrowed, focusing intently on the lines of Shakespeare that turned to mush in her brain. “She new?”

The question was too casual and too interesting to her to play it off as such, though she tried her best.

“She came last year. Her dad’s some government contractor and they moved. She does cheerleading with Octavia.”

“Who?”

“My little sister? You really are as clueless as Anya said,” Gus chuckled. “You just hang out with your little weirdo friends and junk, not even giving the rest of us a second thought.”

“Basically.”

She wanted to argue, but she really couldn’t. Instead, Lexa just watched the waitress smile at the counter to some group that waited for milkshakes. Blonde hair tied up in a ponytail, shirt unbuttoned slightly and sleeves rolled up, she dug in her apron for a straw and handed out drinks like a pro. She had dimples, which were something, and she had eyes and a nose and cheeks and Lexa knew all of that, but couldn’t put it all together. Instead, she just shook her head and looked away because she didn’t have enough brainpower to process this stranger’s existence in the world.

How she never noticed her before was beyond her, though last year she spent a lot of time deep in the books and with her little group of friends making silly movies. That would explain a lot of it. And all of a sudden, she regretted every minute of not knowing a girl like that existed.

“Okay, enough,” she whispered to herself. “Let’s finish so I can get out of here.”

“Alright,” Gus chuckled again, for no reason at all.

* * *

Lexa had friends. Well, she had a friend. A best friend, since first grade. The better way to phrase it was that she had acquaintances. There was never a shortage of people to talk with and hang out with, but it was never really deeper than that. She was an afterthought when it came to invites. She wasn’t anyone’s group. 

Except for maybe her sister, and definitely Luna. Despite going to different schools, they were the only real constants the other had. For Lexa, it was not on purpose, she just didn’t connect well and knew it. For Luna, it was by choice. She was the edgy angry outsider at the private school her parent’s picked. She loved it.

“We’d have to go up there really early to set up, or the night before to shoot,” Lexa explained as she flipped over her notebook and began furiously jotting notes. “I don’t think I’ll have time for a couple weeks, honestly.”

“You never have time,” her friend rolled her eyes. “We’ve been putting this together for the past three months.”

“Tutoring helps pay for this movie, and you know how my parents are.”

“But still. This movie is supposed to be our entry for film school. Or have you changed your mind about that, too?”

“I haven’t,” she sighed, fiddling with her pen. “But I haven’t told them yet.”

“We have to get started on this. It’s taken two years to write the script.”

“I know, I know.”

For a moment, Lexa looked at her friend and felt infinitely guilty. They’d been doing this stuff for years now, having fun, dreaming of the future, and most importantly, dreaming of getting out of that town and their names and it all. She was spread too thin, and all she wanted to do was hang out.

“Let’s pick a weekend then. We’ll go camping and get as much as we can. We can do it in segments,” Luna offered, realizing she’d been a little harsh.

She grew up knowing the Woods clan, and she knew how hard the expectations met her friend. And they had the time, just not much of it.

“We’ll just make the most of what we have,” Lexa nodded, smiling slightly. “If we can make a horror movie with a point and shoot little camera, I’m sure we can do this.”

“I stand by that film,” Luna chuckled.

Lexa didn’t have much time, but she knew how to spend it, and sharing a pizza and filling notebooks with the ideas for how to shoot and do their movie was probably one of her favorite ways. Inevitably, it turned into just catching up and life, and it was what Lexa needed.

As much as she found herself around people, they weren’t people who knew her. She spent time with Gus, and liked him enough. They might be friends. She hung out with a few girls from track from time to time. It was never someone who just knew her, or that she told things, important things.

“Hey, you guys look busy. Here’s a Cherry Coke for the professor, and a Sprite for her associate,” the waitress interrupted.

“Oh, we didn’t order anything,” Luna shook her head.

“I know,” she smiled, unfazed. “Just looks bad if you don’t. So i figured I’d save you the trouble. Can I get you anything?”

“No thanks.”

“Um,” Lexa swallowed and starred, pushing up her glasses. All manner of earthly beauty and smoking hotness just cocked her head and waited. All she could do was sip her drink.

“I’ll let you decide. Flag me if you need anything?”

“Um.”

“Yeah, sure,” Luna said for them.

Lexa stared as she walked away, nearly certain that she earned a wink. The waitress was just a waitress and she was just being nice to get tips. Those words flashed in her head. They didn’t stop the sputtering lungs or the dry mouth.

“You okay, Lex?”

“What? Yeah. Of course. I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” she shook her head quickly, sitting up a bit straighter.

“I don’t know, because you’re a bumbling mess near that waitress,” her friend teased.

“I wasn’t.”

“Do you know her?”

“Who? Her? No. Not… I haven’t been… Gus introduced us once maybe. I don’t know. I tutor here. She works here.”

Lexa did her best to look back at her work and not follow her friend’s glance to the waitress across the diner. She failed miserably.

“You have a crush on the hot waitress. You know who that is right?”

“Clarke.”

“Yeah,” Luna chuckled. “That’s the head cheerleader and ex of Bellamy Blake.”

“The college star?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” she swallowed, her heart plummeting. “Explains why Gus knew her.”

“She seems to like you though,” her friend recognized, shamelessly watching. Lexa perked up slightly though she didn’t want to know that. “I’ve seen her look over like three times.”

“Shut up.”

“This is going to be the best.”

* * *

On most nights, Lexa was exhausted by the time she made it home. Junior year was enough to run her ragged, and she was rarely that upset about her schedule. Her parents seemed to like it, and that kept them quiet.

The beginning of school gradually eased into fall, which hinted at winter. The yard was raked and the trees were bare at their house in a nicer neighborhood on the edge of Cherry Street. Nothing really changed though inside. Most of the time, Lexa came home to a near empty house. Most of the time she grabbed whatever was labeled and prepared by the housekeeper. Often, she ate it alone, only seeing her mother or father in passing.

It wasn’t that they were forgetful or neglectful, just that they were busy, and they weren’t going to let a little thing like family ruin their careers and dreams and aspirations. Lexa didn’t hold a grudge.

They always saw her at some point during the day; they made that effort.

“What are you working on, kid?” her father paused at her door and popped in quickly as she dug her hands into her eyes to get the tired out.

“I didn’t hear you come home.”

“Just got back,” he smiled, tugging on his tie and dropping his bag in the hall before meandering in and sitting on her bed. “I left some of those candies you like while I was in Tokyo. They’re downstairs.”

“Thanks. How was it?”

“Rainy,” he grunted, laying down on her bed and rubbing his eyes in a similar way, earning a smile from his daughter.

Tall and broad and fit, Archie Rutherford Woods IV, had a smattering of salt and pepper around his temples. After a long, busy week, he wore it on his cheeks and below his eyes, though it never slowed him down. There’d been moments, as a kid, where Lexa remembered him building their jungle gym and coming to track meets. And then he got busy or something. It never stopped her admiration though. She was born with understanding and low maintenance.

With a big stretch and grunt, he melted slightly and turned toward the desk his daughter worked at and smiled.

“Is that the scenes from the new movie you shot up at in the mountains last week?”

“Yeah,” she nodded and sighed. “I just don’t have enough time to work on it anymore.”

“That’s how hobbies work. Look at me. I don’t have any,” he chuckled, amused at himself. “You have a track meet this week?”

“Away, in Thomasville.”

“I’ll see if I can make it.”

Lexa smiled to herself, slightly amused at that line, the same she’d heard many times growing up, and especially in the past few years. He wouldn’t be there. He’d probably be in Beijing or Berlin or something.

“Thanks for the candy, Dad,” she offered.

“Yeah, of course,” he smiled, kissing the top of her head as he pushed himself back toward the doorway. “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

“Okay.”

With no other noise at all, he was gone, and Lexa was left alone again. She slipped her headphones back in her ears and she went back to editing. It lasted about ten minutes before she pulled up the other browser that was shamefully minimized.

Quickly, before she opened it, Lexa looked around her empty room, strained her ears, and tried to hear anything in the quiet of the house. Satisfied that she was alone, she kept scrolling through Clarke’s pictures.

Luna had been right about the cheerleading thing. She’d been right about Lexa’s ridiculous crush, too, though she was less eager to admit that part. Lexa felt her heart fall into quicksand again when she saw Clarke kissing a boy in a post from the previous year. It jumped to her throat when she saw Clarke on a boat, in a bikini with a lot of friends.

Lexa allowed herself exactly two minutes of shameless crushing before she decided to exit. Or at least she’d tried to exit.

“Hey, Lexa, honey, have you seen my blue bag?” her mother called from down the hall.

In a flailing move, Lexa thought she exited, but clear as day, she stared at the screen, horrified and beyond repair, at the fact that she’d liked one of the waitress’s pictures from eleven months ago. Struck dead by the move, she decided to never breathe again.

* * *

The morning after the fateful like, Lexa didn’t want to look at her phone. Two options awaited her: either Clarke had seen the like and ignored it, or she hadn’t seen it and the terrible feeling of embarrassment and mortification would linger even longer.

And so, when faced with those two options, she just stared at the ceiling as she laid stone still in her bed and wondered how close to death she existed.

The blaring of the alarm didn’t even make her jump. Lexa reached over and silenced the clock on her nightstand and finally rolled over, staring at the offensive object that she wished had died since she refused to charge it.

With no such luck, the phone blinked on with an email notification. Without looking and looking at the same time, Lexa saw that there were more notifications. Her heart sped up as if she were sprinting.

But she would just look and maybe it was nothing. More than likely, actually, she told herself. More than likely nothing happened at all, and the pretty waitress wouldn’t notice that she was snooping deep into her old pictures.

With a bit more pumping up of herself, Lexa finally picked up her phone and opened it without seeing any notifications. She opened it and started, quickly responding to a text from her sister and best friend. She looked at a few emails. She scrolled for two seconds on a few other apps. And then she couldn’t fight it any longer, and she opened Instagram. Her body in knots, she stared at the screen as it loaded.

Waiting for her a new follow notification and the girl she’d been lurking, and a like on a picture from about a year ago, of Lexa on a weird camera rig on a bike in a neighborhood across town working on a silly little movie.

Lexa wasn’t sure what it meant, but she was certain it meant something.


	2. Snack

There is always something to the feeling of being awake before dawn, hopping on a plane, and spending sunrise in a new city that makes someone feel almost as if they’d been reborn. For just a little while, they have the capacity to be what they want and to feel as if they old reality has been shucked away in favor of possibilities.

Lexa mulled it over form 30,000 feet in the air. Her life followed her as best it could, though it failed to keep up with the plane. Her parents’ eagerness for her to go to a good school, to their school, her best friend’s excitement over their new idea, her school work and the growing pile that never seemed finished, and the girl who now liked everything she posted on social media, the very same girl that she saw in the hallways at school, the very same girl that moved in slow motions with a blaring guitar riff in Lexa’s head at every turn, the very same girl that brought her Cherry Cokes and then disappeared before Lexa could form words– all of that, the pile of thoughts and worries, they all valiantly chased the thin silver line the plane left in the sky, but all failed to keep up.

Almost.

Lexa scrolled and lurked on all manner of social media. That was where her fingers magically went when her mind was on autopilot. Clarke with friends at a party, Clarke at work, Clarke at home with her dog, Clarke fishing with her dad and looking downright more sexy than any fisherman ever had the right. Still, Lexa refrained from liking anything, now extra careful.

But with a sigh, she gave up and decided to let the plane carry her away from everything.

It took actual work to figure out a weekend to visit her sister, but by the time Lexa arrived at the university, she was both exhausted and relieved to have done it. As she stepped out of the airport, she zipped up her coat and smiled to find Anya waiting.

“I’m so happy to see you!” she squealed, hugging her tightly. Lexa just accepted it, not necessarily a fan of the contact, but happy to see her.

Quickly, Lexa found herself catching up with her sister and being given a brief tour of campus before they reached her dorm. She was swept up into her new life, and it was exciting and slightly heartbreaking to see her move on. But in the end, Lexa decided to go with relieved that she was happy and thriving.

There was a part of her sister that just understood Lexa better than most. Her parents could be demanding and thoughtless, self-absorbed, would be an apt descriptor. But Lexa was unassuming and hated disappointing people, despite how she might feel about it. Anya couldn’t stand for it, often shielding her younger sister, sticking up for her, helping her. Lexa knew that she weighed Anya down, and so to see her in her prime, to see her unburdened, that was a gift.

Their visit was much needed on both ends though. Anya missed her sister, missed the way her brain worked, missed the things she said, missed her in general. And so she had an entire weekend planned, eager to try to convince Lexa to apply to her school the following year.

They did lunch in a hole-in-the-wall a few blocks from campus. They went for drinks with friends at Anya’s favorite bar that didn’t card. They found 2 am pancakes and sat by the fountain eating them until dawn before slumping back to the dorm.

By the next day, Lexa was almost convinced to stay and live in her sister’s closet. Why go home when they could be this careless and free forever?

Saturday was spent at a museum before plans were made to go to a party on Frat row, something Anya was jittering to do. Lexa agreed only so she could meet the boy that her sister had been texting all day.

“Why are you still checking your phone? Luna can’t survive without you?” Anya teased.

“Nope, nothing. Yeah, sorry. No. What?” Lexa swallowed and sipped the almost warm beer from her red cup.

“Right,” her sister trailed off awkwardly. “Just let me know if this gets to be too much for you, okay?”

“Definitely. I’m okay.”

“Still.”

Lexa offered an awkward smile and nodded before her sister put her arm around her and wove them toward a different part of the house.

Three drinks in, and Lexa shook a stranger’s hand that her sister beamed at, and for a moment, she was very happy for her. He was nice enough.

Three drinks in, and Lexa’s cheeks were a little red when she smiled too big and almost spit out her beer when she locked eyes with a girl. It just stuck her in mouth, unable to swallow, unable to do much else except stare and then realize and then look away quickly.

Three drinks in, and Lexa said hello, blushing all over herself while her sister supervised, exchanging glances with her boy of the hour.

Four drinks in, courtesy of the girl with pretty brown eyes and a nose ring, Lexa sat beside her on the couch and found herself deep in a conversation about the films of the Coen brothers. She got cozy and stared at her lips and apologized. She posted a picture of said girl kissing her cheek with her red cup and drowsy drunk eyes looking right at her phone.

Lexa vaguely remembered five drinks in. She definitely didn’t remember the girl’s name, though she did recall her helping her type a message.

In the early afternoon, Lexa woke from her pallet on the floor and groaned as a Gatorade sloshed down beside her on the pillow. Her sister was already up, showered and dressed. Lexa was certain she was dying.

“I’m going to pretend not to be offended you didn’t tell me about Clarke Griffin,” Anya decided as she did her make-up in the mirror. The way she sang the name made Lex nauseous. “But you are telling me everything over lunch.”

“How– What?” Lexa swallowed thickly, struggling with the bottle before she let it flop to the ground in frustration, ready to die, as her head was surely exploding.

“I said,” her sister shouted, smiling to herself at the reaction she elicited, “you’re going to tell me about your little crush or else!”

The groan came mingling with a moan of misery on multiple levels, and upon hearing it, Anya took pity on her sister, opening her drink and chuckling to herself, proud to have earned her sister’s first hangover.

Graciously, as if she was just rescued from the desert, Lexa drank, simultaneously feeling better and worse.

“I mean, who tells a girl who is making moves about their crush?” Anya sighed as she returned to her task. “You had a college girl, who was cute, mind you, snuggled up on a couch, and you moon over Clarke Griffin.”

“Can you just smother me?”

“With questions, yes.”

A new groan joined the mix as Lexa sat up and pushed around her mess of hair. Her clothes were still on, and slightly askew and smelling of smoke. Her hand was stamped and the ink smudged around. She wiped at drool on her chin and caught a whiff of herself, which did not help the present situation of her dying body.

“Look at my little hungover angel,” Anya cooed, clasping her hands together sweetly. “You have an embarrassingly low tolerance though. I’ve cultivated an allure back at Northside, so you need to work on that.”

“For all the parties I go to,” Lexa cracked, drinking more.

“Go shower. I know the best cure in the form of food.”

“No drinking tonight.”

“It’s Sunday Funday.”

“I hate you,” she rasped, rubbing her hands along her cheeks before picking up her phone.

If she wasn’t nauseous already, Lexa felt her stomach clench and ready itself to climb through her mouth. She had multiple notifications and they all scared her to even open. In all honesty, she wasn’t sure what was making her shake more, the alcohol or the screen she stared at.

Ignoring her sister, Lexa opened her phone and wished she had more to drink. The picture she barely recalled posting was cute. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were dilated, obviously hinting at her state with the red cup. The girl who kissed her cheek was definitely pretty, and if Lexa remembered correctly, promised her that this was how she got a cheerleader to notice her.

To her credit, she was right.

_CMU party with Anya means new couches to hide on with new friends._

She cringed slightly and scrolled through the comments which ranged from ‘nice’ to ‘didn’t know you had it in you’ to ‘damn girl get it’ to ‘your sister is still hotter.’

Lexa scrolled to see that Clarke didn’t like that picture, as she was now prone to do. But she did open the private message.

_I was looking forward to seeing you at Tim’s tonight, but a college party with your sister is way more badass. I hope this means I’ll see you at the next one Gus invites you to though._

“Anya…” Lexa mumbled, frantically rereading it, desperately trying to decipher what the wink and grin emoji combination meant. Her sister kept talking to herself. “Anya… Anya!”

“What?”

“I… she… what does this mean?”

The absolute fear that took her sister’s eyes made Anya worried at first. And then she squinted and read the message before chuckling to herself.

“Let’s just say there’s no such thing as a nonsexual wink.”

That didn’t help her sister’s panic, and her eyes grew impossibly wider before looking back at the phone screen.

* * *

“So that party looked like fun,” Gus tried as he ate another fry and his tutor studied the words in a book that she already knew. “How’s your sister?”

“Talking to a shortstop.”

“Baseball,” he spat, twisting up his face. “Baseball?”

“You never had a chance, man.”

“I didn’t even want a chance,” he shrugged.

“Okay… “ Lexa shrugged, not caring about it in the least.

Instead, she picked up her phone for the fifth time in ten minutes, still slightly nervous to look, still surprised when Clarke responded.

She hadn’t spoken to her in person yet, and found herself oddly relieved when she wasn’t at Oscar’s for the tutoring session. An entire week had gone by in a blur, Lexa bouncing this way and that trying to schedule things with Luna, tutor, her life, and avoiding Clarke. But they chatted. On Thursday, they locked eyes across a hall. That was it. Instead, they messaged, and whenever Lexa got nervous, she remembered that it was better than talking in person.

She kept a running tally. Clarke called her cute six times. Mostly attached to ‘haha,’ as in ‘haha, you’re cute.’ It made Lexa have a heart attack every time. It was all innocuous, mostly chatting about classes, at least until the night before. Clarke asked about movies and even expressed interest in being in one, if she needed anyone to help. Lexa then ventured into something personal, which led to Clarke divulging stuff about her family. It was… it was worth being tired because they were up until four in the morning.

“Who was the girl?”

“Hm?”

“The girl at the party?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows and smirking.

“Just a girl I met while I was there. I don’t know.”

“You looked pretty cozy for not knowing.”

“We had a few drinks. That’s it. Can we start now?”

“Clarke asked about you.”

“Oh? I mean– oh?” she adjusted her word to sound less eager. It didn’t work. Gus played it up and pretended not to care, just as she’d done to her. “Shut up. Are we going to go over these notes or not?”

“I’m throwing a party after the game next week, if you’d like to come.”

“I can’t.”

“Plans already?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“Whatever. Like you’d miss a chance to stare at a cheerleader that you find dreamy.”

“I never said I find her dreamy,” Lexa snorted.

“Cute. You love her,” he sang. “You want to kiss her and touch her butt and–”

“Hey, sorry I’m late guys,” the person the song was about appeared, sliding a Cherry Coke in front of Lexa. “But it looks like Jenny took care of you.”

“Hi,” Lexa managed, mesmerized.

Clarke smiled at her as she finished pulling up her hair in the ponytail that seemed attached to her uniform. They’d sent probably a thousand messages to each other in a week, and yet Lexa didn’t have her number and couldn’t form words in front of the pretty cheerleader. Instead, she just stared and gawked and looked away with a blush.

“Hi,” Clarke giggled slightly and shook her head. “Y’all good?”

“Great, yeah, awesome. Fantastic,” Lexa nodded, too eagerly. Gus just watched for a moment.

“I was just inviting this party-animal to my place after the game,” the football player finally interrupted their quiet.

“You are going up to that cabin to film this weekend, aren’t you?” Clarke asked, furrowing at the news. “Or did that get cancelled?”

“Oh, yeah, um no. It didn’t. I’m not going to be here this weekend.” Lexa swallowed as Clarke leaned slightly, her hand on the back of the booth, close to Lexa’s shoulder. It was too much.

“I’m excited to see what you’re making though, even if its a bummer you’re going to miss this.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely,” Clarke nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll let you guys finish up. Just wave me over if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” Lexa agreed. Clarke gave her that wink and escaped and her sister’s words repeated in her head.

For a moment, Lexa just watched her while Gus went back and forth between the two, smiling to himself. He wanted to tease, but he knew that if he did, Lexa would disappear into the floor.

“You should go for her. She likes you.”

“She doesn’t know me,” Lexa rolled her eyes and tapped her pencil. “She barely knows I exist.”

“You didn’t see her face when she saw you getting a kiss from a college girl.”

Despite herself, Lexa blushed, eager to ask more but knowing that she couldn’t without admitting how much she liked the waitress. Instead, she just looked over at the blonde once more and cleared her throat.

“Let’s get this over with.”

* * *

Even when she wasn’t in season, Lexa liked the feeling of running. She needed something to clear her head, and she needed something that got her out of the house. There was also something methodical and perfect about quantifying what her body could do. She liked disappearing and running, believing that she could run the entire way somewhere else.

Halloween decorations were still up despite being into early November. She didn’t mind them, though she always somewhat disliked seeing decorations in the daylight. Instead, she just ran, putting one foot in front of another, weaving her way across the city so that when she looked back at the path on her phone, it was never the same twice.

It was when she was running that she planned everything for the following day, for the week. Repetition helped her memorize what her life was supposed to entail. It was when she ran that she felt free of being in her sister’s shadow and her parents almost lack of parenting and more cohabitating. Lexa just had legs and she could run as far as possible for as long as possible.

That was how she ended up on the other side of town. The leaves fell from the tall trees that made a ceiling over the long street. Cars were parked here and there while fences when the whole way to the sidewalks, all very similar, yet different in their tiny ways. It was an old neighborhood, and the houses all had different personalities.

Her house was big and new. It didn’t house many memories, but it was built from hard work, that was what her parents said. Lexa craved the old homes with etched walls and scratched wood floors.

When she ran she generally looked but didn’t see. Her head was focused on pushing and running and not thinking, that she often didn’t take much else in. But this neighborhood, it was nice and a few miles from home, so she enjoyed taking it in, as if she were in a different world.

At first her head did a good job not thinking about Clarke. And then, of course, she congratulated herself, which led to thinking. Clarke talked to her about everything and anything, and that was easy through text. It was different when she saw her. She was beautiful, and confident, and funny, and hung out with people who didn’t know Lexa existed. They knew Anya’s kid sister. That was all.

But she messaged Clarke about things like movies and music, sharing songs and ideas. They talked about their lives, and for a small part of herself, Lexa tried not to message often, keeping it very one sided, less she be seen as crushing. She couldn’t afford a crush. For two weeks they chatted from time to time. For weeks, it was exhausting.

But Lexa thought about her and she couldn’t stop, which made her think she saw her in a yard. Lexa did a double take. The double take took her down as Clarke met her eyes and waved, smiling broadly. All at once, her legs weren’t moving, and she felt the cold of skinned knees and elbows.

For a second, the runner just laid there and waited to die. The sidewalk was soothing against her sweaty skin, and if she didn’t move, it didn’t hurt.

Of course, she had to move. Of course, she didn’t want to move.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Just hoping I can die right here,” Lexa sighed, her eyes still closed for a bit longer. “You saw that, huh?”

“Yeah,” Clarke smiled.

With another groan, Lexa rolled onto her back and stared at the sky. The sidewalk was hard and her muscles were still humming with the feeling of sprinting away from life and her thoughts. All at once, they smashed into her, ready to catch up as quickly as possible.

“I’m not usually this clumsy.”

“I bet.”

“Hey. How are you?”

“I’m fine. Less bruised than you,” Clarke cocked her head, mildly amused. “Can you stand?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” the athlete nodded, looking at her knees and brushing her hands together to get rid of some of the grit. “Minus my pride. That’s pretty sore.”

Without meaning to, Lexa eyed Clarke’s hands. She debated her options and inevitably took them, heaving herself up, feeling every bit of ache. She perused her body, surveying the damage and testing out her bones.

“Come on, I have some bandages at my house.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Yeah. I should just… go. Yeah. I’m fine,” Lexa shook her head. All Clarke had to do was tilt her head and look down at the blood dripping down the runner’s shin before she sighed and gave into those eyes. “Alright, fine.”

It took a little maneuvering, but Clarke helped Lexa test out her body, helped her take a seat on her porch before instructing her not to move as she disappeared inside.

All Lexa wanted to do was be swallowed by the very ground itself. Instead, she just waited and stared at her raw palms, flexing them slightly.

“I didn’t know you lived around here,” Clarke ventured as she came out, arms laden with supplies.

“I, um, don’t,” Lexa swallowed. “I live over on Marigold Street, by the Mall.”

“That’s like five miles away.”

“Yeah.”

“Here,” Clarke smiled at the ambivalence, handing over a bottle of water. “Drink this.”

“I really am fine.”

“I’m sure you are,” she shrugged. “But I’m at least going to clean you up a bit before letting you back out there.”

There was little else Lexa could do. She just sipped the water and watched Clarke bite her lip as she poured some alcohol on a bandage. The sting came an instant later with Clarke’s apologies for it hurting, but Lexa didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want hands to ever leave her skin.

“So how did the filming go?” Clarke asked, hoping to distract from the hissing and wincing from the skinned knees.

“Really good. Lots of editing to do.”

“You didn’t miss much at Gus’ anyway. I’m glad it went well for you.”

“I don’t really like parties anyway.”

“You looked pretty comfortable at that party with your sister,” Clarke recalled as she placed a bandaid on a knee. If Lexa was able to think, she’d have recognized jealousy. Of course, she’d never imagine Clarke Griffin of even thinking about her at all.

“A rarity, I promise. I don’t get asked much.”

“Yeah, you’re the strong, silent type, I think.”

“My sister says it’s always been like this with me. I just don’t know how to make noise. I don’t like lots of noise so it’s fine.”

The movements stalled and Clarke stared at the runner in the chair. Lexa met her eyes and had to look away quickly, instead inspecting her newly cleaned knees. She rubbed at her palm.

“You are one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met.”

“I don’t know if you’re having a laugh, or–”

“No, no, no,” Clarke jumped at the words. “I just mean… you are very interesting, Lexa.”

“I don’t know about that. I’m sure you know all of the interesting people at school. You’ve only been here a year and you’re head cheerleader.”

“I just like dancing,” she shrugged, finishing up her doctoring. “Everyone is kind of boring, if you ask me. The parties, the gossiping, the idea of it all. I can’t wait to get out of it. This isn’t the real world.”

“It’s real enough for now.”

“Yeah, I guess. There you go, Ms. Woods. All mended.”

“Thanks,” Lexa smiled quickly. “I don’t know what happened.”

“That sidewalk is notoriously tricky. Don’t worry. Happens to me all the time. Are you going to run home?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Let me give you a ride,” Clarke offered, pushing herself up from the steps they occupied in the front of her house. “You went down hard, and I bet you’re more sore than you’re willing to admit.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Lexa, we text a lot, and you’re afraid to have an actual conversation with me?”

“Yes.”

That was what Clarke liked. She liked the honesty. She liked the unassuming honest kind of words that came from the girl who adjusted her glasses too often and was a big old nerd. It was refreshing, and at the point she was in her life, Clarke needed something refreshing.

“Let me grab my keys.”

“Okay.”

* * *

Somehow in the course of two weeks, Lexa’s entire life had shifted so that she felt as if she were inhabiting a parallel universe. She went to a college party and flirted with a cute co-ed. She got very drunk and confessed a stupid crush to her sister. She filmed her movie, finally, in just forty-eight hours. And now, suddenly, she was bruised and sitting in the passenger side of Clarke Griffin’s old pick up truck.

None of it made any sense at all.

“Lexa, we’re friends,” Clarke offered after a few minutes and a stall at a redlight. “No need to be weird.”

“I’m pretty weird, if you hadn’t heard.”

“Should I listen to what people say about you, or should I listen to what I know?”

“What do you know?”

“You tutor Gus, and you do a pretty good job at it. You are in like fifty clubs and activities. Student government, AP classes, and you make movies with your best friend. Those are all pretty good things.”

Lexa nodded to herself as she looked out the window. There was something very foreign about being seen or noticed. She hadn’t expected Clarke’s words. Lexa hadn’t expected her life, in all honesty, but there she was.

“Are you flirting with me sometimes?” Lexa asked, unable to contain herself anymore. She looked over to see Clarke smile and blush. “Like, you wink at me, and you call me cute. The girl at the party said that if you liked me, you’d be jealous of the picture. And you didn’t like it. You always invite me out. And you bring me Cherry Cokes.”

“Yes. I was flirting.”

“Oh.”

“I can be more explicit, if you’d like.”

“I would, actually.”

Clarke pulled into the house that Lexa pointed to and put the truck in park before turning slightly. Lexa undid her seatbelt and was ready to thank her and run.

“Fine, I can do that,” she decided. “I think you’re one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen in my life. I thought so the first day I saw you at school, and agan the first time I saw you at the diner. I think your thoughts are spectacular, and you’re too smart for your own good. I think you’re funny. I think you’re loyal and kind. And this is me flirting with you, waiting for you to flirt back with me.”

“I don’t know if I know how,” Lexa shrugged, confused by the words.

“To flirt?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to?”

“Oh yeah! Definitely!”

“Okay, well, tell me something honest, that you’re very afraid of saying,” Clarke prompted, waiting and watching Lexa grow red on the neck.

“I look at your butt a lot when I’m tutoring Gus.”

Clarke’s laugh burst forth and filled up the cab. Instead of being embarrassed, Lexa found herself mesmerized by the tone of it. She didn’t even hurt anymore.

“I look at yours sometimes too,” Clarke promised.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Nice.”

“Agreed.”

Lexa paused her hand on the door, ready to make her escape. Suddenly, she had a lot of words to say to Clarke, and at the same time, she was desperately afraid to say anything at all. So she took her sister’s advice, and became a woman of action.

“Thanks for the ride,” she offered, leaning across the seat. She kissed Clarke’s cheek and disappeared as soon as her lips made contact, bolting for her house.

Left oddly perplexed and surprised, Clarke sat in the driveway for a moment, watching after the girl who loped up the steps two at a time until she was out of sight.

“Well alright, Woods,” she muttered as she started the truck again. “We’ve moved onto advanced flirting now.”


	3. Ride

Lunch might have been the only quiet part of the day. The hallways were always racateous, while classes droned on in a distracting way. The school was constantly alive with some event or some happening that kept everyone buzzing. But lunch. Lunch was sacred and nothing more than a dull roar in the background, safe to muddle away to white noise.

It wasn’t before, when Luna had the same period, but now, with the new schedules this year, Lexa got a bit of welcomed break from all expectations. Sometimes she read, often she studied, even more likely, she could be found plotting out her newest movie or idea. She wasn’t particularly lost or lonely looking, but rather a little busy. It was welcomed, and she didn’t think she missed talking to anyone. She very well could have sat with a few groups of people, but constantly chose a bit of solitude to catch up on different things and be left alone.

In the crowded cafeteria, she blended into it, nearly disappearing, even for someone looking for her. It was a miracle that Gus could find her when he decided he needed to sit with her. From time to time he would interrupt her, annoying her about nothing of consequence just because he sometimes hated sitting with his football friends. Sometimes, he just liked listening to Lexa talk about certain things. Most of the time, he found that he oddly liked her advice and was in sore need of it.

Sometimes, people sat with her, kept her occupied. But Lexa wasn’t interested in much else. She had almost forty-five minutes to disappear, and she didn’t like to be bothered. 

“What are you doing?”

“I was going to eat my lunch.”

Lexa looked up upon hearing the voice, mistakenly thinking it was Gus ready to annoy her as he crunched his snacks. Her pen slipped from her hand with a thud onto her notebook.

“What are you doing here?” she tried again, swallowing what she could as she stared at Clarke.

“Sitting.”

“But… why?”

“You kiss me in my car and I can’t eat with you?”

“I didn’t– It wasn’t– I was– You gave me– It was a thank you,” Lexa sputtered, growing red around the cheeks, her muscles restricting themselves and making it hard to think or move or feel anything.

The girl beside her just grinned and took a bite of a sandwich, enjoying the stutter and nerves. Lexa pushed up her glasses so they were higher on the bridge of her nose.

“Where’s your lunch?” Clarke interrupted.

“I had some work to do.”

“Here.”

Lexa stared at the half of a sandwich that was shoved toward her before following the arm to the smile attached. She looked back and forth a few more times than necessary.

“You’re sitting with me,” she reiterated, looking around the cafeteria, seeing if there was anyway that Clarke could escape before anyone else saw them sharing a conversation and a table, let alone a sandwich.

“It’s turkey and swiss. I also have some orange slices,” Clarke smiled, ignoring the observation. “I think my dad packed me some graham crackers, too.”

“I was concussed when I did that, and I’m sorry–”

“Take the sandwich and a deep breath, Woods.” It was stern and Lexa needed that from time to time.

Happy with herself, Clarke waited until Lexa took a bite and let her brain calm down before sharing her orange slices. For a moment, they sat in perfect peace.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa whispered after a few bites.

“I think you need me to be explicit,” the cheerleader decided. “I am flirting with you. I find you cute and oddly sexy. It’s the glasses. I don’t know why. That and you have abs, which is disgustingly awesome. But you’re also weirdly smart and your thoughts are interesting.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s been a weird year for me. But you’re fun. I’m flirting with you.” There was a shrug at the end, but Lexa didn’t see it. Instead, she stared, wide-eyed, at the sandwich.

The words left a lot to be digested, but still, dumb and valiant, Lexa did her best to make the most of them.

“Won’t your friends miss you?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged again. “Now are you going to tell me about the movie or not?”

Lexa smiled slightly and took another bite before showing off her notebook of plot points. She stuttered only slightly when Clarke leaned closer and listened intently.

* * *

There were little whispers that Lexa never really recognized as being whispers. After physics one morning, a kid she’d known since second grade asked about the cheerleader. Lexa just shrugged it off and continued on her way. During debate practice, a somewhat friend warned her about the dangers of girls like that. After soccer practice, Lexa quickly checked her phone until a teammate casually brought up that she’d seen Clarke and Lexa hanging out in the parking lot after school.

It wasn’t until Luna asked about Clarke, that Lexa put some of it together, slightly exasperated from hearing about it from everyone. But after answering a few questions, she thought about it, and realized that they had, in fact, spent a good bit of relatively public time together, right there, for everyone to enjoy.

Almost every lunch period, Clarke dropped by for various amounts of time. They walked to class together often, and if that wasn’t bad enough, Clarke even showed up at one of the volunteer events that Lexa had to participate in for student government, and on a Saturday, no less, without the pretense of school as a background. It was surely a recipe for the rumor mill, and it did not disappoint.

But Lexa didn’t think about that for long as she shoved her bag into her booth at Oscars and waited for Gus to join her for their normal tutoring session. Instead, all Lexa could do was think about how soon she’d be seeing the cheerleader who was alarmingly well-versed in comic books and music. There was the girl who was flirty and confident, and that girl was wild and a trip. Lexa liked that girl, but there was also this different Clarke, this kind and calm and deceptively unsure person beneath it all. She came out late at night when they messaged back and forth before falling asleep. That part was nice.

Quickly, Clarke was becoming a distracting unlike anything Lexa knew before.

As soon as she pulled out her own notebook and phone, a Cherry Coke slid in front of her and a body joined her in the booth, though it was far better to look at than the burly football player.

“Hey, so this is going to sound really weird, but has anyone said anything about me to you?” Clarke asked, furrowing deeply as she asked.

“Um, no?”

“Good. Good. I just. I’m not being a jerk. I mean all the things I say to you. I haven’t felt like I could breathe for the past few years, and then you– what I mean is– just. Let them talk, right?”

“Right,” Lexa agreed, not fully following the train of thought. But she earned a smile and that was enough to make her brain relax and short-circuit.

“Good,” Clarke nodded.

For a second they were quiet and Lexa sipped her cherry Coke, oddly enjoying the taste now, but more the company.

“I’m almost done editing the cabin movie,” Lexa finally started with a blush as she fiddled with her pencil and refused to meet Clarke’s eyes. They were far too blue; much more than any eyes had a right to be.

But Clarke bit, eager for the change of topic and to hear more about this movie that Lexa had been over the moon eager to start. And just like that, they were chatting amongst themselves, oblivious to all else.

By the time Gus arrived, Lexa was smiling and Clarke was grinning from ear to ear, soaking in the sight. She didn’t move much, except to tuck some hair behind her ear and lean closer, though a large table separated the booths.

The football player watched the scene for a moment before chuckling to himself and retreating back outside, already deciding that homework could wait one more day.

* * *

As the holidays drew closer, Lexa found herself running out of excuses to avoid a party or event in which she would find the waitress. To be fair, Clarke never pushed. She often invited, but rarely did she express anything other than a quick note of sadness about not seeing the bespectacled girl at a game.

The real problem remained, that if Lexa saw Clarke in her uniform, she’d die. Right there in the stands of John B. Goodman Memorial Stadium. If she earned a smile from the cheer captain and softball co-captain, Dean’s list and Art show favorite, well she’d combust. It was a risk she just couldn’t take.

But they texted. They texted nonstop. They texted more than Lexa had ever texted in her entire life, whenever they got a moment.

But time was opening up for them with impending breaks, the end of seasons, and school clubs wrapping up. And by the time homecoming rolled around, Lexa was counting down the days until her sister was due back.

Between projects, and still stuck editing her last film with little to no help from Luna, Lexa spent much of her free time polishing a new script. It followed and haunted her in her sleep, so much so, that CLarke invented a new term for Lexa’s spacey glance when she got thinking about it, often mocking her fondly.

In just a few months, they’d become comfortable, and almost like friends, if friends had a constant undertone of staring too long at each other’s lips.

All in all, Lexa ran out of excuses as to why she couldn’t go to a game or a party. Her sister urged her, supporting her with lots of emojis, while Gus made her wear one of his old hoodies to stay warm.

But truth be told, her eyes never left the pretty cheerleader who somehow spotted her and waved. Lexa adjusted her glasses, blushed, and managed something weakly in return, though she immediately felt stupid. She sat with a few friends from various classes, listening quietly as they explained a lot of the intricacies of the rivalry and such.

Somehow, as the game ended, she found herself cheering, and after the win, even tagging along to the party.

 _How long do I have to stay?_ She texted her sister as the music throbbed and people crowded every inch of someone’s empty home.

_Until you kiss your cheerleader._

Lexa sighed and found a bottle of water before escaping to a new room, in search of fresh air. It’d been a whirlwind of a friday, and she was stressed from tests and papers and life and now this party where she didn’t seem to know what to do with her face. So much stimuli was enough to drive her crazy, and despite catching a glimpse of a happy and shot-taking Clarke, she escaped to the porch.

 _I can’t stay much longer_ , she fired off to her sister.

_That’s okay. I’m proud of you for trying._

When Anya said things like that, Lexa felt infinitely tiny. She knew they came as little words of encouragement, but they made her feel weak and ineffectual and childish.

“You look like you’re not having any fun.”

“I’m having fun,” Lexa disagreed, earning a nudge from her tutee.

 

The living room she’d settled into was almost full, with people doing all kinds of things, and smoke and drinks filling it up. People talked and laughed over the music. Fresh from a win on the field, Gus had his arm around a girl that Lexa recognized from the soccer team, and it made her smile to see him so giddy.

Still, even though it was nice to know a face, it was so loud and so crowded and filled with so many people that she knew but didn’t know, that she felt this feeling of an ant colony in her chest, tingling and making her anxious. Unsure of what to say, she wondered where Luna was again, and for that matter, Clarke.

“Hey, you came.”

Like all manner of calm in the midst of a storm, Clarke’s voice stuck out as she swept into the living room, almost breathless and effortlessly gorgeous. Lexa smiled and gulped, forgetting her thoughts despite being in the middle of a conversation, albeit barely, with a few kids from track.

“Yeah, I told you I would,” she felt her cheeks jolt with a grin and then go back to normal, suddenly aware of themselves. She didn’t know what else to say or do, so she took a sip of her drink.

“I’m really glad,” Clarke smile, dimples appearing as she took a drink a friend handed her and sat close to Lexa.

Somehow, Lexa survived, though she smelled Clarke’s perfume, and she felt dizzy. She felt Clarke’s warmth against her side as they smooshed together in a single chair in the midst of a circle of people who were people Lexa didn’t really know, but knew in the high school way. They were all much cooler than her. Quarterbacks and kids who broke into the teacher’s lounge, cheerleaders and pretty people; the lettermen and Marlboro crowd.

But it didn’t matter. She watched Clarke play the drinking game and perform nobly. She smiled when she got blue eyes looking back at her. And though she planned to leave ten minutes ago, she seemed be unable to leave, and over an hour passed.

All the while, Clarke got closer. She yawned and put her chin on Lexa’s shoulder and took a picture with her while they made a face. She rested her hand on Lexa’s thigh and nearly killed her for the fifth time that night.

“I’m flirting with you, if that’s okay?” Clarke whispered.

“Yeah, very,” Lexa nodded eagerly.

“It’s been a really shitty day, but you being here really made it better.”

“I’m glad,” she nodded, meaning it deeply. “If I wasn’t, would you have flirted with someone else?”

“No, just would have texted you all night. This makes it a bit more personal.”

Despite herself, Lexa blushed. Unbeknownst to everyone in the circle, she was alarmingly smitten with this crush.

But even with Clarke there, even with the feeling of butterflies in her belly, there was too much stimuli, too many noises, and she grew uncomfortable until she just couldn’t take it any longer, and had to stand under the pretense of needing more water.

She bypassed the kitchen though and went right for the back porch to catch her breath and text her sister, hoping for something to calm her down and tell her to stay, for someone to be impressed.

“Hey. Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” Clarke joined her after a few minutes. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“You don’t have to–”

“No, no, I mean, I really want to get out of here,” Clarke stopped the excuse. “But you can definitely stay if you want.”

“No, no,” Lexa shook her head quickly. “I was going to try to sneak out.”

“Quite a pair we are.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

“I’m fine to drive,” Clarke complained as Lexa started her truck. “I had two beers.”

“It’s the law. You’re lucky I’m here to make sure you get home safe.”

“How are you getting home then?” Clarke teased as she put on her seatbelt.

“I’ll walk.”

“You’re stubborn and impossible.”

“Yes.”

“So long as you know.”

With a small smile, Lexa pulled out and made her way toward Clarke’s house, because she knew such things. The radio played and the heat kicked on, loud and humming and warming their faces. Clarke hummed along to the radio and put her knees on the dash as they left the house out on the edge of town.

“You promised to show me your movie, you know.”

Two street lights after the heat started blowing, Clarke interrupted the quiet and turned to watch Lexa drive her home. The neighborhoods were all quiet and sleeping, slumbering in the chill of winter setting amongst the homes. The truck crept down familiar blocks, weaving knowingly along.

“It’s nothing. Just a short.”

“You made something. That’s everything.”

“I don’t know about that,” Lexa shrugged. The steady flickering of the turn signal flashed across her face as she counted the steady beat to herself.

Fingers moved along the steering wheel as they sat at the red light, the only car at the intersection. Lexa felt the well-worn leather under her palm.

“Please? I really want to see it.”

“I’ll send it tomorrow.”

“That was easy.”

“That’s me.”

“I don’t know about that,” Clarke snorted as they took of once more toward her home.

Somehow, she was driving Clarke Griffin, head cheerleader, friend to everyone, sweetheart and all-around most popular and beautiful girl at school, back to her home. And it was a night where said cheerleader almost cuddled with her on the couch and showed an interest in seeing her movie, her silly little side project of a movie. No course of events should have led to that.

“Why was your night shitty?” Lexa asked, furrowing as she followed the rabbit hole that led to that moment, stuck on a statement she was too flustered before to recognize. “You said it was bad.”

“The usual,” Clarke shrugged and looked away.

“I don’t know what the usual is for you, Clarke.”

“It’s just… I don’t know. Family, right?”

“Yeah, I can relate.”

Lexa thought about her own parents and how she felt so far away from them sometimes, how she felt like no one really just… understood. She tried to chalk it up to being a teenager. She tried to make excuses for them, but deep down she was more afraid that she was simply detached, and perhaps that was how she would always be– never able to meet their expectations, never able to grow.

So deep in thought and focused on driving was Lexa that she didn’t notice the look Clarke gave her after the simple exchange, as if she were trying to figure something out.

“If I tell you something, will you never tell anyone else?”

The brakes squealed slightly as they stopped once again at a light.

“Of course,” Lexa swore. “I would never do– no– never– no way. I wouldn’t. I don’t talk about– I wouldn’t.”

“Pinky swear it,” Clarke challenged, holding up her hand.

Lexa stared at the offering, cast in red from the light and the street that they sat beneath, but she took it anyway.

“Cross my heart.”

That seemed to be the ticket.

“I know who you think I am,” Clarke started. “I know what everyone thinks I am. Perfect grades, cheerleader, team captain, bake sale enthusiast, party girl, and all of that. And I am, I think. I just… none of it matters. None of this matters. Not really. We’re not even real people yet. There’s a whole world out there.”

“I get it,” Lexa nodded. “Our brain is wired to do that, you know? To make shortcuts. The brain is attacked with at least thirty-four gigs of data every day. Something like 11 million pieces of information per second. We are programmed to make shortcuts for people. Put them in little boxes. I put you in a little box. You put me in one.”

“Until I got to know you.”

“Exactly. Until we filled in the missing parts and redefined the shortcuts.”

“I think my missing parts are just… I don’t even know what to do with them.”

“I’ll hold them for you, if you want,” Lexa offered as she pulled into Clarke’s driveway. She meant it earnestly, and that was what melted the girl in the passenger seat into a puddle, though Lexa would never know. She was much too busy meaning her words.

“My dad has MS,” Clarke blurt. “He has more bad days than good days anymore. The past few days, he’s been unable to really move. My mom and me fight, all of the time because of it. And most of the time, I just… I just… I’m very angry and sad and… and and. I don’t know. I just take it in my hands and crumple it up like a paper ball and hide it, and it’s exhausting, but I don’t want to share it with anyone else.”

Lexa listened as Clarke got herself worked up in the passenger seat. She didn’t know where to look, so she stared at the lights on the dash, the check engine light a steady glow with everything else. She didn’t know how to process the information, and so she memorized the mileage while Clarke stared at the house illuminated in her headlights. With a sigh, she pushed her hair around her head and slumped against the seat, able to breathe finally.

“To top it off, my mother has me applying to programs in hopes of med school, and I don’t want to do that. And she’s not too keen on having a bisexual daughter, let alone one who enjoys doing something like cheerleading,” Clarke shook her head. “I think she sometimes believes she took the wrong baby home from the hospital.”

Despite it all, Lexa chuckled slightly at that.

“I’m sorry about your dad.”

“Thanks.”

“For what it’s worth, I kind of like that you’re bi.”

“Yeah?” Clarke smiled and finally met Lexa’s look, causing her to look away. “Think you have a chance?”

“Oh goodness, no. Probably not. I just think it’s cool.”

“You’re very dense for a genius, did you know that?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

It should have been an insult, but Lexa ducked her head and smiled into her chest as she tried to memorize the warm fluttering in her ribs.

“I didn’t mean to unload all of that on you.”

“Whenever you need it, I’m here.”

“That’s a sweet offer.”

“I don’t know how helpful I’ll be. My parents and I kind of just exist together. I’m not good at relating to people. Or talking to people. Or being near people. It was easier with Anya around.”

“You do fine,” Clarke promised. “How you talk is one of my favorite parts of you. You’re fascinating.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I do.”

“Okay then.”

The tape deck played an old standard while the two ran out of things to say, the beer buzzing Clarke into a giddy, relieved mess of exhaustion.

“You should take my truck home,” Clarke decided.

“No, no I couldn’t. I’ll walk. It’s not far.”

“It’s far at two in the morning.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lexa promised.

“I’ll come get it in the morning. Good excuse to get out of the house for a bit.”

“If you’re sure,” Lexa debated, searching Clarke’s face for any hint at what she was actually thinking. She was sold with the idea after hearing that she’d get to see Clarke again before school on Monday.

“I need to get out of the house,” Clarke nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

She paused for a second, her fingers moving anxiously over the steering wheel as she tried to summon all manner of her sister’s bravery.

“I wanted to tell you something all night, but I haven’t had a good moment,” Lexa finally murmured. She didn’t see Clarke watching her. “I think you’re beautiful. And I won’t tell anyone that you tell me. I’m good at holding things. It’s not good timing. It’s not one of those moments in a movie. I just. I won’t be able to sleep until I tell you.”

It came out in a rush, but Lexa did it. Blood thundered through her ears so that she couldn’t hear anything else except her own existence.

“It can be a movie, but better,” Clarke tried after a beat, but not losing their momentum. She mostly just wanted her to look toward her again.

She stretched forward and fiddled with the radio until she found some kind of song that fit her moment. Clarke smiled when she met Lexa’s eyes, her features lit only by the headlights glow against the garage door.

“Can I kiss you now?”

Never before in her entire life did she expect Clarke Griffin to say those words to her. Not even in her dreams did Lexa allow herself to contemplate something like that. But as she tried to discern if it was real or fake, she just saw Clarke watching her, amused at the internal struggle happening.

Words were naturally non existent. Lexa couldn’t even form them in her own head, but rather nodded in her own brain.

Frozen in place, she watched Clarke take the nod, but really give her a moment to think it over. The problem being it was all she could think about.

Clarke slid over a few inches, so that she was within range, though Lexa was a statue, stoic and unable to contribute at all to making it any easier. In fact, the seatbelt still dug into her shoulders when she finally moved.

But Clarke smiled to put Lexa at ease, and she touched Lexa’s jaw with just her fingertips as she leaned closer. In a short instant, lips finally met lips, and all hell broke loose. For Lexa, it was a problem. Now she knew what Kissing Clarke Griffin felt like, and she didn’t want to do anything else, ever in her life.

Slowly at first, Clarke was sweet and soft, her lips full and eager. She deepened the kiss to show Lexa that there should be no doubt of her intentions with a kiss like that. Lexa turned to jello when she felt Clarke’s tongue, and even then, felt herself kiss Clarke back, moving with her, bent sideways and uncomfortably in the cab of the old truck with her seatbelt keeping her from floating away in bliss.

“Get home safe,” Clarke finally offered, just inches away from Lexa’s lips. “Text me to let me know?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime.”

Lexa watched Clarke dig out the spare key from under the mat and go into her house with a small wave, which she returned despite knowing that Clarke probably couldn’t see it. She slowly backed out of the driveway and made it about two blocks before she pulled over and dialed her sister.


	4. Spark

Morning came with a vengeance. The garage door opened, cabinets thwapped shut, and the general waking of the house began despite Clarke’s groan and digging her face into her pillow. But still, her mother must have been coming home from a night shift, and after almost thirty hours at work, had little to no patience for quiet, and sometimes Clarke understood that.

Her clock said it was just after eight, and she groaned again in protest of that hour, though all of the day before came back to her and she was wide awake. She dug her phone up from its spot on the ground, half-buried but victoriously plugged in somehow, beneath dirty clothes and books she’d tossed off her bed in an effort to sleep.

There were texts asking where she’d gone. Texts and snaps from friends at the party, confused about her absence. But just as importantly, there was one from Lexa telling her she made it home safe. 

Giddy and smitten, Clarke smiled to herself as she pulled up instagram and saw the likes on their picture together she posted at the party. For a long second, she searched Lexa’s face. Though at the party Clarke noticed her antsiness and nerves, in the picture, Lexa was happy. Her smile was small but genuine, her eyes crinkling slightly with the effort. She liked Lexa, a fact she was still wondering how and when, but nevertheless, accepted.

Unable to help it, she decided 8:18am was a perfectly acceptable time to text her crush and not seem too eager. Of course. With Lexa, she had to show how eager she was. When she got a quick good morning response, she kicked herself out of bed, dressed as quickly as humanly possible, and made her way down the stairs.

“I thought you were out,” her mother greeted her from her spot on the couch. She put the washcloth back over her eyes after sneaking a glance at her daughter. “Your car wasn’t in the driveway taking up all of the spots.”

“I got a ride home,” Clarke murmured, oddly deflated. “How’s Dad?”

“Stiff today. I’m going to have the nurse come for therapy this afternoon. Maybe we can all have dinner tonight?”

“Yeah, sure.”

It was an empty offer, and Clarke knew it. So she grabbed an apple from the kitchen and tugged on her dad’s old MIT sweatshirt, well worn and loved and much too big for her, pushed up the sleeves, and made her way toward the garage, already finished with whatever else her mother would want to talk about.

“Be home by seven for dinner,” her mother called.

“Just text me. I’m sure something will come up.”

“That’s just lovely, Clarke. We don’t–”

Before the familiar talk could continue about responsibility and how stressful the entire situation was for everyone, and it gave Clarke no license to mouth off or behave like that, she bit into her apple and closed the door behind her.

November meant it was cold. The chill came and settled in the neighborhood and town, and made the dreary Sunday almost impossible to want to traverse. But Clarke didn’t mind as she swung her leg over her bike and began the peddle toward Lexa’s.

Clarke worked and she did extracurriculars, and she hung out with friends because she was afraid. Plain and simple, Clarke was a coward. She was afraid of coming home, of being home. What if her father died? What if something happened? What if she was left with her mother for an extended amount of time and they had to talk about boys again? All of it was terrible and most of all, Clarke was just a coward.

But with Lexa, she was brave. Clarke smiled to herself as she steered with one hand and ate her apple, weaving her way across town.

Lexa’s house was big, but as Clarkes was old rich, Lexa’s depicted a new kind of money. It was much more modern than Clarke’s, and she dropped her bike and climbed up the full set of stairs to the entrance. It made sense that Lexa lived somewhere like that. The yard was immaculate, the windows that covered the house were huge, and it reminded her of something Iron Man would live in.

Now, standing at the door, she swallowed and tried to make sure apple peel wasn’t in her teeth, oddly wishing that she’d taken the time to take a shower or wear something better than jeans from three days ago and her father’s old sweater. But she was comfortable, and Lexa made her comfortable, and after spilling her guts in her car and kissing her, she hoped it meant she could be more herself, and less afraid.

“Hello?” a woman about the same age as her own mother greeted Clarke after a moment. “Can I help you?”

Tall and slender and lovely, Clarke saw all bits of Lexa there. The slope of cheeks, the brown of her eyes, the furrow. She was beautiful, even as she pushed the glasses up into her hair and tucked a book against her chest. Even casually, she was beautiful.

“Um, hi, yeah,” Clarke gulped. “I’m Clarke. Clarke Griffin. I go to school with Lexa.”

“Who’s at the door?” an equally tall, chiselled man asked as he took off his glasses and looked away from his phone as he walked by.

Clarke was surprisingly upset that Lexa came from a family of obvious gods. They weren’t even trying to hide it. There they were, out in the open for all mortals to see.

“This is Clarke, Lexa’s friend from school.”

“I thought Luna was Lexa’s friend from school?” he asked, cocking his head in the same way that his daughter did when she was confused.

“She can have more than one.”

“Luna practically has a key, doesn’t she?” he continued, somewhat amazed that someone else was at his door. “At least this friend has good taste. MIT bound?”

“What? Me?” Clarke startled herself. “Oh, this? My dad.”

“What years?”

“‘88 and then ‘93 for PhD.”

“What’s his name?”

“Come in, first, before you’re forced into interrogation,” Mrs. Woods offered, shaking her head at her husband. “It’s like you’ve never met a person, Tim.”

“No it’s fine. My dad does the same thing when he finds out someone is even remotely related to the school,” Clarke smiled warmly and made her way inside. “Jake Griffin. Computer engineer.”

“It doesn’t ring a bell, but I’m going to see. I was over in the mechanical engineering section, but there might have been some overlap.”

“I’ll ask him as well.”

“Definitely. We’ll have to get together anyway. Same years, same school. I’m sure we have some people in common. Tell him I did the Smoots measurement my year of pledging.”

“Every time this happens I get a weirder message to take him,” Clarke chuckled.

“We haven’t heard of a Clarke before,” Mrs. Woods sized her up, interested by the whole interaction. “Are you in one of Lexa’s clubs?”

“Oh, no,” Clarke shook her head. “We just kind of know each other from school. I let Lexa drive my truck home last night. She was nice enough to drive me home after the party.”

“Party?” Mr. Woods cocked his head again, and Clarke was almost certain they were gods and part puppy. The genetics just added up. “Lexa went to a party?”

“Um, no?” she tried to cover.

“I’m not mad, just amazed,” he grinned and shared a look at his wife. “Lexa Woods. Our Lexa, right?”

“Yes?”

“Huh.”

Awkwardly, Clarke stood in the foyer to Lexa’s home while Her parents grinned and looked at each other as if having an entire conversation. She cleared her throat and waited to be saved.

“Sorry, honey. Lexa’s in the garage,” Mrs. Woods offered. “Right down there, down the steps, and on the left.”

“Thank you,” Clarke smiled, regaining some kind of confidence.

As she made her way down the hall, she adjusted the sleeve that fell over her hand and heard the parents whispering to themselves, excited and surprised by their morning.

* * *

The garage was nothing like her own. Back home, her’s had some tool, some shelves with boxes labeled things like ornaments. Lexa’s garage was a work room, a full garage like something out of Iron Man or something. Clarke hadn’t expected that when she opened the door and followed the music playing.

Along one entire wall, tools were hung neatly and giant chests hinted that there were more packed neatly in their proper spaces. Clean and crisp, a few workbenches had lights and various projects in the works. At first, there were what Clarke assumed were Lexa’s parent’s cars. Next, came a half-constructed car of some sort. Next came a skeleton of a Jeep or something. And finally, at the end of the entire stretch, where the music was the loudest, hips with grease-stains over the back pockets were bent and the top half of the person they were attached to was deep under the hood of her own truck.

“If I’d known you were going to strip it for parts–” Lexa jerked up at Clarke’s voice, hitting her head on the hood. “I wouldn’t have let you take her. Oh goodness. Are you okay?”

“Ouch, yeah, no, I’m fine,” she grunted as she extracted herself from the mouth of the old truck. “Hard head and junk.”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah.”

Lexa offered a sheepish smile and rubbed the back of her neck while Clarke grinned at the blush and the grease tinting her cheeks.

“You’re here. In my house. Did you–” she started to put it together. “My parents let you in?”

“Yeah. We’re good friends now. They liked me, I think.”

“Alright.”

“I didn’t expect to find you inside my engine,” Clarke approached the edge and looked inside her old truck’s heart. “Find anything good?”

“Oh, yeah, uh, sorry. I noticed it was skipping a little, when I drove it, and the light was on. My dad has one of the readers, and so I thought I’d just see–”

“You don’t have to explain,” she promised. “What’s the diagnosis? Please be gentle. I bought her with my own money, and I’m not ready to let her go.”

Lexa wiped her hands in an old rag before lifting up a tool and pointing inside.

“It’s not terrible. Oil change and two spark plugs need replaced. I just started looking though, but that’s about it.”

“And you can do that?”

“Yeah, pretty easy. I was going to, but you showed up.”

“Wait, you were just going to do it and not tell me?” Clarke piqued an eyebrow and looked up from the engine that was simply a garble of cords to her.

“Um, is that creepy? I didn’t mean it in a creepy way. You have a lot on your plate, and I actually really like doing this kind of stuff,” Lexa shrugged, speaking quickly to hide her embarrassment. “You can take it to a mechanic if you want. I don’t–”

“No, no,” she assured her. “It’s more than sweet.”

With that, Clarke leaned over and kissed Lexa’s cheek.

“But I want to learn, if that’s okay. I’ll try not to slow you down.”

Slightly startled by the notion of it, Lexa stared back at Clarke and debated the course of action to take. Clarke waited and moved to take off her sweatshirt to make herself more at home and ready to work. 

“You can be my assistant.”

“I can definitely do that.”

* * *

By noon, the picture that Clarke posted of her and Lexa working on her truck got a lot of likes and also earned her quite a few texts from confused friends as to how and why she was hanging out with whoever that was with her. Those who knew who it was were even more curious, and for that reason.

By noon they’d also changed the oil and got it to stop doing whatever it was doing that warranted new spark plugs. Clarke tossed her old sweatshirt over a desk and rolled up her sleeves, handing tools over and spending the day watching Lexa work and explain things. It wasn’t the worst Saturday in existence.

“Where did you learn all of this?” Clarke asked as she dried her hands, finally able to free them from the grease.

“My dad,” Lexa smiled. “We used to work on cars and stuff. Him and, um. Us.”

As soon as the smile came, she grew somber as the memory turned bitter in her mouth. But she steadied herself, came back from the far away look in her eyes, and she put her head to to finish getting the grease and muck from her palm.

“Sometimes him and me, sometimes him and Aden.”

“Aden?”

“My brother. He was my brother. He died a few years ago. Three years, actually. Three years ago. Four in April.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t… no one ever told me.”

“It’s fine,” Lexa shrugged. “We don’t have to talk about it. But that’s where I learned it. Each of these were going to be ours.”

“You are full of surprises, Lexa Woods.”

Though Clarke had many more questions, she knew this wasn’t the place to pry. She knew that Lexa even saying what she had must have been hard, and so she decided to smile at her, and make her nervous.

She was thoroughly successful, earning a short, quick smiled as she finished cleaning up.

“Hey kids, do you want something for lunch? I can order a pizza?” Mrs. Woods greeted them, looking over the back of the couch as they made their way back upstairs. “You must have been working hard.”

“No work today?” Lexa asked, shoving her hands in her back pockets.

“It’s a weird day. Just reading some proposals from home. Get everything finished?”

“My truck will now last forever,” Clarke proudly nodded.

“I don’t know about that. But it will get you home and to school,” Lexa corrected.

As if she was looking at aliens, Lexa’s mom stared at the pair until they seemed to notice her again. All at once, her daughter was different, possibly even foreign to her completely. She watched them dance around each other and grin.

“Pizza then?” she finally asked when they grew nervous.

“We were actually going to go grab a bite from Oscars real quick, and then I was going to show Clarke some movie stuff, if that’s okay?”

Lexa looked to her mother hopefully, and waited while an extra few seconds passed, the amazement apparent on her face before she could regain some footing. Clarke shoved her hands in her pockets and waited with a smile.

“Yes, yes of course, darling. Is that history paper done?”

“It is.”

“It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Woods,” Clarke offered happily as Lexa nudged her toward the door, shuffling them both away as quickly as possible.

“Don’t be a stranger!” she called, though the door was almost closed when she said it.

For a moment, she sat on the couch and stared in the direction of the departing pair and smiled to herself, still oddly in disbelief. Though she turned her attention back to her work spread out in the living room, she couldn’t quite get her head back into it.

* * *

There were many things that appeared on her phone. Invitations to do stuff with the rest of the squad, meeting up at someone’s house, a trip to the mall, and such, Clarke let her phone vibrate in her pocket as she sat in a booth in the corner of her diner on her off-day, listening to Lexa explain the point of some movie plot point that Clarke just didn’t appreciate enough at all.

It didn’t matter, honestly. Not when Lexa was so excited and eager and comical and smiling. The vibrating disappeared completely despite different notifications still pouring through. Clarke had no urge to look at her phone.

“What are your favorites then?” Lexa asked as she sipped and watched Clarke across the booth, slightly blushing from the teasing she’d endured.

“You’ll just make fun of me.”

“I promise I won’t.”

Clarke eyed her warily but couldn’t resist her.

“I’m a popcorn movie junkie. If there are explosions and aliens fighting robots or something, I am definitely there.”

“I love those too.”

“Do you?” Clarke asked, trying to needle an answer out.

“I’ll watch anything. I hate the misconception that just because someone loves movies, they don’t like all kinds, and not just film festival drama pieces.”

“That’s fair. But have you seen the newest Thor? That’s the real question.”

“I haven’t yet,” Lexa sighed and stole a fry from the girl who sat across from her who just let it happen. “I’ve wanted to, but I was all over the place this summer.”

“It’s out on video now.”

“We should watch it.”

Before she could realize what she was saying, Clarke agreed, and Lexa was suddenly wondering what that meant. She kind of asked her out, but it was also a friends type of thing, which would make sense. They were friends. Friends who kissed sometimes, but not all the time.

The confusion must have been evident, and for a moment, Clarke just watched her work through it in her own head.

“Yeah, definitely.”

“I mean it in a more than friends, I’m flir–”

“Lexa?”

Both girls in the booth looked up at the newest member of the conversation, distracted by their own conversation and the day they’d already spent together.

“Hey, Luna, hi,” Lexa managed, startled to be near someone else.

“You never texted me back,” her friend muttered, adjusting the bag on her shoulders as she eyed the other girl at the table.

A far cry from the normal Clarke Griffin she was accustomed to seeing, Luna had to do a kind of double-take and watched her warily from the side of her eye. Clarke just smiled politely and bit her straw before leaning back and crossing her legs.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa sighed, deflating with the realization that she’d missed things. “This weekend just got out of control. We were going to do some plotting.”

“It’s fine,” she lied. “You’re busy.”

“No no, I’m so sorry. I just–”

“It’s my fault,” Clarke offered. “I am an epic distraction. Lexa saved me and dropped me off, and then my truck is a piece of junk.”

All Luna did was look at Clarke before turning back to her friend, ignoring the excuses. She didn’t want to hear any of it anyway.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Wait, why don’t you come–” Lexa interrupted.

“No no, you stay,” Clarke tried to offer. “I can head home. I’m sure I have homework and stuff.”

“Wait, you don’t have to,” Lexa tried, anxious at the idea of the day ending.

“It’s fine. I just wanted to make sure you were still alive.”

“Luna, I–”

Clarke watched it happen, watched Lexa give her a look before pushing herself away after her friend. Despite herself, she tried not to look at the two talking. She watched Lexa apologize and avoid Luna’s eyes. For a moment, she felt nervous and oddly out of place. She could see the hurt in Luna’s eyes. Clarke didn’t know the strange girl from freshman history, but she could see the way she looked at Lexa, she could feel the intimacy between them. When Lexa offered a smile and earned a hug from her friend, Clarke looked away and felt her chest burn.

“Sorry about that,” Lexa murmured as she took her seat at the booth again. “I’ve been a terrible friend and co-producer.”

“You can go see your friend. I did kind of take over your day.”

“She’s just dramatic. I disappear from time to time. She’s used to it.”

“I didn’t mean to come betwee–”

“You don’t really have to go, do you?” she asked, these puppy-dog eyes firmly in place as they looked up at Clarke from beneath long lashes. It made the cheerleader feel weird and fluttery.

“You really want to watch Thor, huh?”

A smile started at the corner of Lexa’s mouth before it spread. She relaxed and nodded before taking a sip of her Cherry Coke.

Even with the minor incident at the diner, even with the day lazily slipping away, Lexa found herself in her room, watching a movie on her bed with Clarke Griffin.

The sun set, her dad poked his head in and offered pizza and asked about homework, and still, they camped out and talked and joked and just had a good time. It was one of the best Sundays of her life.

“Thank you so much for having me over,” Clarke offered as she made her way down the steps and found Lexa’s parents in the living room. “Your house is so nice, and the pizza was great.”

“Anytime, Clarke,” Mr. Woods smiled and sat up a bit, pulling off his glasses.

“Don’t be a stranger,” his wife offered. “Get home safe.”

“I’m going to walk Clarke out,” Lexa offered her parents awkwardly, shoving her hands in her pockets.

“Thanks again,” the cheerleader smiled and waved, all perky and perfect for parental units.

Even more awkwardly, Lexa watched her parents stare back at the pair, as if they were aliens, completely overwhelmed by the scene. She hurried them along, down the hall and toward the garage, eager to escape it.

She spent an entire day with Clarke, and now it was ending, and for some reason, this was the moment, their moment, the turning point in everything, the rising action of which they couldn’t turn back from in the story. They had been unfettered by school or eyes from other people, they had been completely content to do nothing in particular, and yet it was enough and probably built something better than any other method.

And now it was ending, and tomorrow they would wake up, and things would be different. There was no going back on whatever happened.

“Thanks again for fixing up my truck,” Clarke offered, leaning against the side of the junk. “It was a really sweet gesture.”

“It was easy. You weren’t a bad assistant.”

“Well, I can tell my mom I’ve started learning a trade. I’m sure that will thrill her.”

Lexa smiled and watched Clarke fiddle with her keys. They didn’t have anything left to say, and each knew it. Clarke just wanted to prolong the inevitable trip home, and Lexa was this shining spot of good in an otherwise just plain bad couple of years.

“We should do this again, but on purpose,” Lexa decided. “I mean. The hanging out. Not at school. Just us.”

“We should.”

“But like a date,” Lexa clarified, watching Clarke to see if she understood.

“I’d like that a lot,” she nodded.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

“Maybe next Sunday we can go see an actual movie?”

“That’d be awesome,” Lexa nodded, her heart like a hummingbird’s and fluttering in her ears so that she was barely able to hear.

“Okay then, Woods, it’s a date,” Clarke smiled, nodding her head to set it officially.

“Cool.”

“Cool, indeed.”

Once more, Clarke toyed with her keys before deciding to open the door of her truck. She paused and turned back toward Lexa who remained, hands rooted in her pockets and shoulders hunched, but smile growing.

Overwhelmed with how relaxed and relieved she felt, Clarke did what came naturally, and she slid her arms around Lexa’s neck, pressing her body into her’s, wrapping them up tightly and holding on as she closed her eyes. It took a few seconds, but Lexa relaxed, falling into it and eventually uprooting her hands to wrap them around Clarke’s back.

“Thank you for today. I needed it,” the cheerleader sighed. She pulled away and kissed Lexa’s cheek.

“Anytime,” she mumbled, vibrating all over.

That was all Lexa needed. She watched Clarke slide into her truck and start it up. Awkwardly, she waved and hated herself as the truck pulled out. It was too dark outside for her to be sure, but she thought there was no way Clarke waved. As she closed the garage door and hung her head as she walked inside, Lexa focused on one item from the day, and that was that she got a date with Clarke Griffin. An official date. And she had no idea what that would mean, but she was excited for it.


	5. Chapter 5

Not one thing changed at all, much to Lexa’s surprise.

She felt different. Things should have been different because they sure as hell felt different, but not one thing was changed at all when Monday morning rolled around at school. As usual, Lexa spent the morning catching up with Luna and sipping her orange juice as they walked to school. And despite her friend’s annoyance from the day before, Luna softened slightly and let Lexa tell her about her day with Clarke.

And like every Monday, Lexa went to her classes, made plans for the coming week, jotted things down in her notebook to keep track of it all. Like the past few mondays, Clarke sat with her at lunch and they smiled at each other awkward and bashful for a few minutes before relaxing. Like every normal Monday, she had student government after seventh period, and she quickly changed to her soccer uniform for practice. Like every practice, she worked hard. It was painfully banal and normal.

But they weren’t normal. She’d spent the entire day with Clarke, and she kissed her, and no one knew that she was different now.

“Hey, do you want to work on that history project this week?” Jessica asked as they sat on the bench, taking off shin guards, catching Lexa from her state of pure distraction. “I think we can put a pretty big dent in it if we just muscle up for a few hours.”

“Hm? Yeah, definitely,” Lexa nodded, tugging down her sock. “I’m busy this weekend, but we can get a lot done and finish early next week if that’s okay?”

“Honestly, that’d be perfect. I’m glad we got stuck together,” her teammate and history partner smiled as she grabbed her bag. “I at least know you’re going to do your side of the project.”

“And unlike some of the guys I’ve been stuck with, I won’t have to do it all this time.”

“Win-win for both,” she smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, definitely. See ya.”

The crispness of autumn and the evening, the sun starting to set on the campus already, led to a slight shiver to dry the rest of the sweat on Lexa’s neck and chin as she tossed a few things in her gym bag and finally slipped on her old sweatshirt.

The practice field emptied out and she began the arduous trek back toward the parking lot while going over her list of things to do at home. It helped to think of things like that. If she were meeting with Jessica on Wednesday, that meant she’d have to finish her side of the work by Tuesday. And she was supposed to volunteer after school, which meant less time.

All the while she maneuvered through her mental schedule, Lexa followed her feet toward the sidewalk that would take her home. Even though her parents offered her whatever car she wanted because of her grades and general perfectness as a student and kid, she couldn’t take them up on the offer.

Instead, she liked her walk.

Around the baseball field and a cut through the faculty parking lot, and Lexa was meandering past the football field and track. Normally, she didn’t take much notice, meaning she didn’t stop and gawk. She always snuck a look at the head cheerleader though, when they were out practicing. Sometimes they were in the gym. Sometimes they were in a gymnastic room. But Lexa felt her cheeks burn slightly when she saw Clarke.

The football players began to hit the showers, and for the life of her, Lexa wasn’t sure why she actually stopped and put her arms on the fence near the gate. She never thought to do it before, but she did it. Even though it was chilly, and the leaves were fluttering, ready to die and become nothing more than wisps in the wind, and even though Lexa was in her shorts and soccer socks, she waited and hoped it wasn’t creepy.

But after some of the footballers walked by without noticing, and it looked like cheer practice finally started to dispel, she met Clarke’s eyes and earned a smile and slight wave from the squinting leader. It told her to stay.

Fresh from practice, Lexa pushed her glasses up on her nose as she blushed and watched Clarke pack up. She wasn’t really sure what was coming, or what to say, or what to do, just that sometimes Clarke waited for her after class, and they walked to class together sometimes, and it seemed like it should be okay.

Clarke lifted her arms to tie her hair in a ponytail, her shirt riding up so her ribs were exposed, and her hips were on display. Lexa stared and then looked away as quickly as her brain could go back to real life speed instead of dial up. But the cheerleader didn’t notice that Lexa was memorizing it.

But Lexa couldn’t look anymore, so she turned around, crossed her arms and just waited without looking. But by not looking, she ended up looking over her shoulder quite often until she saw Clarke zip her jacket and grab her bags.

“Hey, were you waiting for me?” Clarke grinned, cocking her head to the side, adorable and teasing all at once.

“I was,” she nodded. “Is that okay?”

Lexa pushed up her glasses once again and met Clarke’s eyes before shying away from them for some reason.

“Are you kidding me? This is awesome. I’m off on Mondays, so I’m not in a hurry. Care for a lift home?”

“It’s out of your way. I just wanted to sa–”

“Lexa, I’m going to give you a lift. Come on. No worries. You diagnosed and fixed the beast, you deserve free rides.”

“I didn’t come over just for a ride.”

“I know, but it means I get to see you a bit longer, so I’ll take what I can get.”

They didn’t really move at first, but rather lingered by the gate, asking about the other’s practice and schedule. They skated around the entire day they spent together, yet looked at each other with a different kind of knowledge about the other. Everything was the same and nothing changed, except them, and only they knew it. It was a secret worth keeping.

“Hey, Clarke, what the hell are you doing?” a voice boomed when the streetlights finally clicked on in the parking lot.

On the edge of it, right there in front of the stadium, the two laughed until they were interrupted.

“I’m heading out in a few,” she waved, hoping it would signal him to leave, but he was with a few friends, and that was about to happen.

“I meant what are you doing with this nerd,” he sneered, enjoying how witty he found himself.

From her spot, Lexa clenched her jaw and waited, ready to leave had it not been for Clarke standing in front of her somewhat, positioning herself so that she was between the large football player and Lexa.

“I think you’re forgetting who your real friends are,” he continued, eyeing them both, “and who is in the circles you’re supposed to be in.”

Lexa sighed and expected much worse. All in all, not a terrible restructuring from a head of their class. Being Anya’s sister kept her safe for as long as possible. She had a good run, and wasn’t too bothered by someone finally saying what she was certain was whispered behind her back.

“Yeah, all she does is run around with a stupid camera,” another kid chuckled.

“Christ, Finn, it’s fucking 2018. When you’re done doing your best Cobra Kai impersonation, maybe you can grow the hell up.”

“I’m not doing any impersonation,” he defended himself, looking to his friends for backup. “I’m reminding you of some facts and warn you that people are starting to notice where you’re placing your freak flag.”

“Holy hell, you guys are actual, real-life, bonafide idiots, did you know that?” she asked, gobsmacked and scoffing at the lot of them.

Young and tall and tan and built and a lot of hormones and hair, the few football players changed with the outburst from Clarke that they weren’t expecting. They shuffled and shifted their weight as Finn, the leader of the little pack, searched for something to say.

“If you ever call anyone, anything, I swear to God, I’ll punch you in the neck. It’d be your nose but I can’t reach,” Clarke promised. “Seriously, grow up.” And with that, she held out her hand, she looked over her shoulder at Lexa. “Let’s get out of here. I think they misplaced their one communal brain cell.”

As with most things in her life since meeting the pretty, saucy, wild girl, all Lexa could do was hold on and hope to survive the ride. So she took Clarke’s hand and let her tug her past the blubbering football players.

With a vengeance, Clarke stomped toward the parking lot before wheeling around when they were just a few steps from her truck. She heard the boys muttering and yelling a few insults.

“You know that they’re dumb and I don’t think anything like they do, right?” she asked, almost accusing Lexa of lumping her in with them.

“Yeah, I know. It’s noth–”

“I can’t believe they said that. Children. They’re children.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Lexa shrugged.

“It’s a big deal to me,” she argued. “They don’t get to just make sweeping judgements about people like our lives are out of a damn John Hughes movie.”

“No need to bring Mr. Hughes into this. He’s just an innocent bystander.”

“That’s what you focus on?” Clarke furrowed, a little mad at the answer. “They pull that shit and you worry about my movie reference?”

“He made good movies, and those guys are always saying dumb things. I figured as long as you still hang out with me, who cares, right?” Lexa scratched her neck and squinted slightly before looking away from Clarke.

“I care!” she argued. “I don’t want people saying things about you like that. It’s not fair. How can people still be such jerks. It’s the 21st century for Christ’s sake.”

“If you don’t want to be seen with me, I get it. I’m sorry I waited–”

“How can you be so dense?” Clarke yelped, groaning at Lexa’s train of thought. “Just shut up. I want to hang out with you. I’m going to hang out with you. And I’m not going to listen to neolithic fuckboys spout any kind of ridiciulousness.”

“Cool.”

“Get in the truck,” she groaned, just making Lexa smile a bit more, unbothered by her inability to get Clarke to calm down.

Nothing really mattered because she got invited anyway. And so Lexa heaved her bags into the bed of the truck just as Clarke did after finishing her keys from her backpack.

“You’re a total nerd, but only I’m allowed to call you that,” Clarke finally stated.

“You can call me whatever you want,” Lexa offered as she buckled her seatbelt and absently waited for the car to start.

She didn’t notice the look that Clarke gave her, nor did she care about the smiled that spread on Clarke’s lips as she finally turned the key in the ignition.

“Who even talks like Finn just did anyway? What a piece of dick.”

Lexa smiled and leaned back against the seat, comfortable, grateful, and oddly amazed that so much power and force came in the package that was Clarke Griffin.

* * *

The garage used to be alive. The doors would be open, music would play from the built-in speakers, and they would spend too much time working on cars and spending time together as a family. It was her father’s den, his place, his workstation. He always called it his first passion, to be able to do things with his hands, no matter how much his job moved toward the financial side of things with his company. He hid and worked on old cars, took apart vacuums, and fixed lawnmowers.

After her soccer game on Thursday, Lexa made her way home to an empty house and before she even went upstairs, she paused at the garage door, looked around the empty courtyard and driveway, and typed in the old code to let herself in.

There wasn’t really a reason to do it, but it felt like the right thing to do. It was a long game and week; one which started with Clarke trying to fight a football player, and ended with Clarke kissing Lexa again in her truck after the soccer game. In between, a rhythm formed that made it feel normal.

But Lexa felt things get a new rhythm and felt nervous at it for she longed for the times that came before, and was unsure how to keep them. So she opened the garage door, flicked on the lights, and dropped her backpack before running her hand along the old body of the multi-colored Bronco she’d chosen.

The night came in, and Lexa didn’t notice as she went to work taking apart one of the doors in hopes of finishing or fixing something. If she kept her hands moving, then she didn’t have to think about Clarke and how normal it was becoming to be near her and kiss her. They’d already kissed almost four times, depending on how she counted those on the cheek.

So deep in thought did Lexa find herself, that she didn’t much notice the sound of her father’s car approaching, nor did she take her eyes off of the tool in her hand long enough to see the headlights flick off as he made his way inside.

“Hey, kid, what are you doing in here?” her father’s voice wafted in with the music that slithered along the garage.

“Just… working.”

“Hmm,” he nodded, surveying her work.

Awkward and startled, Lexa looked around and really tried to find some words to explain why she felt compelled to work on her car, even after everything, even after she grew afraid of it. Things were different, and they weren’t different, and she was starting to understand such things.

In an unheard of move, her father took off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves before offering his help, earning a smile from his daughter.

Quietly, just above the clinking of tools and between the suggestions for how to go about something, he asked his daughter about her game and school. She told him about her goal and her project for history.

“I didn’t think you’d want to work on this ever again,” he grunted as he loosened a bolt.

“Me neither.”

“Why then?”

Lexa just shrugged and went back to the task at hand. But they neared the end of their little project, and she wiped her forehead of sweat, unsure of what to do.

“I miss Aden. I miss talking to him, and I have a lot of things I need to talk to him about, but I can’t, so I’m just going to work on this.”

It was honest, perhaps more honest than Lexa had been in years. The force with which she said it, the earnestness that came as well, it made her father stop his movements and stare back at his youngest daughter in complete amazement. For the first time in too long, for the first time in longer than he was ready to admit and ashamed to realize, he searched his daughter’s face, watched her not look at him, watched her eyebrows furrow below a streak of grease as she winced and pulled something from the door.

“What, um, what might,” her father gulped. “What would you want to talk about?”

Lexa paused her movements, frozen by the question, unsure of what she should do, not really expecting something like that.

Staring back at her was the same eyes and cheeks of her brother, grown old and slightly wrinkled with age and a life lived with three kids and loss. As quickly as she looked at her father, she looked away and held her breath, debating.

“I kissed Clarke, right over there,” she nudged her head to the other side of the garage. Her cheeks burned with the confession. “I like her.”

From the other side of the door, her father tried to keep a stoic face, not wanting to mess up the moment. If he messed it up, he’d never get his daughter back, and he knew it. So he watched her work in silence for a moment, so completely aware that he had no idea who she was, and greatly saddened by it.

“She seems like a nice girl,” he finally tried. “Polite and kind.”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded, tugging some wires.

“Hey, look at me.” To his credit he waited until Lexa took a deep breath and met him again, not wanting to, but knowing she had to sooner or later. “You can talk to me about this stuff. I will always, always, always love you and support you and try my best to be there. I know things have been hard, since Aden. But we’re still family. I need to remember that too. It’s my fault you feel so weird telling me this–”

“I don’t. I just didn’t have anything to tell,” she shrugged.

“That’s not true. And I’m sorry. But this is very good. Very very good. You’re allowed to like Clarke. You’re allowed to like anyone. You’re allowed to be happy.”

Lexa shrugged again and looked away, uncomfortable with the sincerity and feeling happy about telling her father.

“I don’t know how good it is,” she sighed, fiddling with the screwdriver in her hand. “Girls are really confusing. They mess up your brain. I’m smart. I’m good at school. But sometimes Clarke is around, and my brain reverts to the functions of a second-grader.”

Tim Woods chuckled at her daughter’s anguish, forcing her to groan and tilt her head back as she shook away the embarrassment of her admission. The day they put his son in the ground, he never imagined having a talk about girls over fixing an old car. It’d been a fatherly dream he’d always held for some reason, and here he was. The irony was too much to contain.

“Yeah, that never really goes away,” he nodded, digging in the toolbox for a wrench he needed. “You don’t think she likes you?”

“I think she might. She says she does. She told me she was flirting with me.”

“Feels like a trap, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It always feels like a trap, no matter what they say or do. Girls have you second-guessing yourself at every turn. A pretty girl will make you a downright idiot.”

“Clarke’s pretty,” Lexa nodded, seriously, as if she were regurgitating a fact that would be on a test next week. “Really pretty. She’s a cheerleader. Head cheerleader.”

“Wow,” her father whistled. “My girl nabs the head cheerleader. It’s the Woods genes. We’re completely irresistible.”

“I don’t think so. Dad, I’m kind of a nerd. Everyone knows it.”

“You?” he furrowed. “You’re on government, debate, soccer. You make those little movie things. Who wouldn’t like you?”

“It’s not that they don’t like me, I just… I’m different. Everyone knows it. And it’s not even the whole Aden thing, even though that didn’t help at all.”

“Is it because you like Clarke? Because I’ll march up to school right now if anyone said anything about the tw–”

“Dad, Dad, calm down. It’s not that. No one knows about me and Clarke. I don’t even know about me and Clarke.”

“Right,” he nodded, taking a deep breath after puffing out his chest and seeing red for a moment. “Listen, there’s no way you’re a nerd, and there’s no way Clarke isn’t completely over the moon about you. You’re fantastic.”

“You have to say that.”

“I don’t! I just really mean it. And she must like you. Forget everything else.”

“She did kiss me first,” Lexa smiled slightly at the memory.

The two worked on rewiring the door, the father impressed by that revelation, Lexa slightly nervous to talk so candidly about it. But she was a dam and the walls were breaking because she wanted to talk about Clarke to someone, and she wanted to tell her parents a lot of things. It was what she needed but didn’t know how to have, but she was going to try to keep it. Her heart felt a little warm with her father’s reaction, and that was something she remembered from when she was a kid, but had almost forgotten completely.

“Oh yeah kid,” her father nodded confidently as he finished unscrewing something. “She likes you.”

“But what does that mean?” Lexa groaned again. “What do I do now?”

“That’s the million dollar question.”

“I thought you’d be more help.”

“I get that a lot.”

“Do I have to tell Mom or will you?”

Her father tapped a wrench against his leg as he walked over toward the spare fridge they kept beer in, reached in, and opened one with the familiar hiss. Lexa watched and waited, hoping he’d take pity on her, though when she saw the smile grow, she already knew the answer.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“She won’t care?”

“She’ll tell you she loves you and remind you to be safe.”

“Ugh, gross, stop.”

“If you think you’re getting out of a sex and consent talk, missy, you are sorely mistaken,” he reminded her, pointing with his can in his hand.

“I learned everything I need on the internet.”

“Oh no,” he shook his head. “I already had a speech ready for Aden, and Anya kind of got one, but that was mostly your mom. I’m ready for this. I’ll have to adapt some of it– What are you doing?”

Lexa began picking up and weighing different tools in her hand, debating something and trying to not listen to her father.

“I trying to see which tool would work best to deafen myself.”

“If you think I won’t type up an essay, you are very mistaken.”

“Dammit.”


	6. Chapter 6

November was all yellows, golds, browns, and auburns.

The entire world was colorful and alive, busy with one final show before the inevitable setting in of winter. Throughout the town, preparations were made for football championships and harvest festivals, while everyone avoided even mentioning that the holidays were right around the corner. It was a time of routines and predictability, of change and finishing.

School spread around the legend of the head cheerleader who tore apart the quarterback to defend the honor of the movie nerd from AP calculus. It was the talk of the week, and it changed things, in a way. People looked at the two of them differently, but only Clarke picked up on it. Still shamefully unaware, Lexa stole her moments that were given to her, and she didn’t ask for more, but rather savored.

Any day though, Lexa thought as she sat at her table and twirled a pen around her fingers. Any day now, she was going to ask Clarke on a date, an honest to goodness, full on, I-like-you kind of date. They’d already kissed. Clarke must like her. She kind of already agreed to a date before, in the grand kind of way. In the, yeah sure maybe one day, kind of way.

The thoughts weren’t convinced, and Lexa couldn’t get over the butterflies as a cheerleader tossed her a wink and smile from behind the counter at the diner.

“So what’s going on with that?” Gus asked, totally nonchalant and not at all eager to hear about Lexa’s weird love life.

His tutor simply shrugged and bit at the straw of her Cherry Coke after taking a sip and purposefully looking back at her notes scattered on the table.

“Where were we? Pythagorean Theorem?”

“You have to just ask her out. This has been going on for two months already.”

There’d been a plan for a date, a hypothetical that got deterred by something coming up at home for Clarke. And she honestly did sound sorry for it, even being extra sweet to Lexa when she had to cancel. Lexa promised that it was alright, though things felt different after it. And now she was as messed up as ever.

“Let’s study. You have midterms next week.”

“I’ll study when you ask her out.”

“This isn’t a debate,” she sighed. “You pay me to help you.”

“Just go do it. Real quick,” he smiled, nudging his head.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No way.”

“Trust me. I don’t know trig, but I know ladies.”

“Shut up.”

“Come on, Lex. You are already–”

“Hey, how are you guys doing over here?” a sugary sweet, customer service voice interrupted.

Lexa had all but memorized the way Clarke’s uniform shirt clung to her body. She couldn’t help it. It followed her home and crawled in bed with her, keeping her awake with all of those thoughts. But as Clarke crouched down beside the table, Lexa was intimately aware of the curves once again, and eagerly drank most of her drink in a single slurp.

“Great. Fine. Awesome. Never better,” Lexa rushed. “How are you?”

Clarke gave her a look and smiled, though Lexa died inside, avoiding Gus’ amused grin.

“Not too bad. Pretty busy tonight. Lots of studying going on.”

“Yeah, same with us. Lots of studying. We read. A lot. Math too. We’re learning… math things,” Lexa nodded and cleared her throat, looking to her tutee for help, though he had none to give.

“Alright, I think a round of fries are in order for you. Anything else to drink, Gus?”

“I’m good, thanks,” he smiled wider, sharing a look with the embarrassed and flustered girl across the table. “Maybe a date for my friend here.”

“Whenever we get to it, we will. I’m not going anywhere,” Clarke promised, afraid to look at Lexa’s reaction. They kept a pact of not looking at each other, despite the valiant wingmanning that was taking place. “I know I can’t ask anyone out. I’m a cheerleader. We get asked out.”

Gus let out a loud bark of a laugh, and Clarke chuckled along with it, though Lexa remained completely still, not willing to lift her eyes to either of them, but rather staring at one equation on the page of her notebook unfailingly.

“Don’t tease your tutor,” Clarke warned the football player as she grabbed their cups to refill them. “Give you a ride home after my shift?”

“Yeah, if you want,” Lexa nodded, still not looking up. In fact, she actively refused to ever move again. She vowed to melt right into the booth.

“Definitely,” Clarke nodded. “I’ll be right back with some snacks.”

As soon as the waitress escaped ear shot, Lexa turned a stern gaze onto her colleague, pursing her lips and tapping her pen against the table in frustration. She stared and waited for something, though Gus just had a shit-eating grin on his face and no guilt at all.

“You’re welcome,” he offered.

“I hate you so much. You’re the worst wingman. It’s much more complicated than you even know, and you can’t do stuff like that.”

“I helped. Now you know she’ll say yes to whatever you pick.”

“That’s not the point.”

“You’ll thank me for this one day.”

All the tutor could do was groan and roll her eyes, sinking deep into the bench.

 _Sorry about that. He’s the worst_ , Lexa typed out quickly on her phone, tossing it down and not expecting a quick answer. It vibrated ten seconds later.

_No apology needed. I was kidding about the whole cheerleader thing. I’d ask you out right now if I didn’t think you’d combust._

Perhaps it was the confidence that Gus gave, perhaps it was just the right moment, perhaps the stars aligned and all of human history waited for this to happen. Lexa would never know what made her type another message, and she’d never tell Gus.

_Do you want to go see a movie next week? It’s okay if you’re busy… I just thought a reschedule would be good._

With bated breath she waited, her cheeks turning impossibly more read, as if that was something scientifically possible. But still, they tried.

_I’m all yours. I have to make up for bailing last week._

All nerves rushed out of Lexa’s body and she tilted her head just in time to see a waitress smile and bite her lip as she tucked her phone in her back pocket.

“What?” Gus asked.

“Nothing.”

* * *

The house was almost always fairly quiet. Sometimes, a basketball game echoed from the living room while her father napped with files and his BlackBerry buzzing beside him. Sometimes, tiny conversations took place between her parents, that Lexa caught the tal end of or she would infer what the rest meant, or better yet, that she would just ignore completely, never even hearing what they mentioned.

But it was a Wednesday, and the rain was pelting the windows while the leaves that were left on the trees dripped and rattled. Soccer practice was cancelled, and debate had been a rip roaring good time. Tutoring cancelled and she couldn’t bring herself to go to the diner without an excuse, for fear of seeming like a stalker, thus leaving Lexa nothing to do but go home.

With the semester winding down, and the homework load less than ever, all that Lexa could do was try not to look at her phone too much. And thus, she ambled around the house with nothing to do and too much on her mind. Things had been different this year. Things were just… she was just… different. That was the only word she had for it. She felt like she was waking up, finally, and she didn’t recognize where she was anymore.

That was how Lexa somehow found herself flopping down on the couch while her mother worked.

“Hey, honey, how was school?”

“Good, fine, yeah, great,” Lexa nodded, crossing and recrossing her legs. She lulled her head and looked toward her mother. “What’s for dinner?”

“Your dad is picking up Thai on his way home. You can make it another hour I hope.”

“Barely.”

“I believe in you.”

Elegant and slender, her mother adjusted her glasses, tilting her head back as she flipped another page in the stack of papers she was sorting and marking up. For the longest, Lexa looked at her, curious if she’d ever actually looked at her before. Suddenly, she was thinking of these things. Suddenly, she was aware of the world, as if she’d been asleep for a long, long time, and now was in control enough to notice. She saw that her mother tilted her head to the side when she read. And she still wore the necklace her husband got her for their second anniversary. And her favorite sweatshirt was older than her oldest daughter, and still getting miles put on it.

Lexa saw her mother differently, and all at once, just like her father was suddenly new again. It was like seeing a stranger and realizing they were an old friend, one that moved away long ago, one that you knew who they once were, and from that tried to construct them again, but came up with a hollow anagram of what they might be.

“Do I have something on my face?” her mother asked with a smile as she adjusted her glasses.

“Mom, I like Clarke.”

“We like her too,” her mother nodded. “Polite and smart. Nice choice in friend.”

“No, no,” Lexa shook her head and took a deep breath. “You’re not understanding me. I need you to understand me. I like Clarke. I like her like… I like her in a kiss each other kind of way.”

Those weren’t the right words, but Lexa hadn’t planned on anything like that. She hadn’t planned on coming out, she never knew she had to do it officially, just that she never told anyone, not even Luna. Anya knew only because she knew everything, so no formalities needed.

She was afraid of meeting her mother’s eyes, because Lexa was afraid of disappointing her. She was afraid of a lot of things, but mostly, changing. And nothing was staying the same anymore for her. She needed to put her foot down and establish a baseline.

“You like Clarke,” her mother repeated, measuring her words. “Thank goodness, because she likes you too, and I thought I was reading it wrong.”

“Wait. What?”

“I don’t want to react too strongly. You don’t tell us things, and I just… I don’t want to scare you from telling me things. I’m very happy though. Clarke is a nice girl.”

“You’re… this is okay?”

“Oh, Lexa,” her mother sighed.

She didn’t care that her daughter wasn’t a hugger. She didn’t care that she was nervous. She just had to show her what all the words would fail to say, and so she wrapped her arms around her daughter and hugged her tightly, clinging there and not letting go.

Startled by it, Lexa held her breath before letting out a long breath and relaxing into her mother’s embrace. She dug her nose into her shoulder, felt lips kiss her temple while arms squeezed her shoulders. It was only a little while later that she realized she was clinging back to her mother even tighter.

“It’s like we don’t know each other anymore, and I’m sorry for that,” the mother whispered. “But I’m here for you to tell me these things. I’m here to be your biggest fan and support.”

“I want to quit debate club.”

“Okay.”

“And government.”

“What does this–”

“I want to have a life. I will keep soccer and track, and pick up A/V club,” Lexa wagered. “But I want to have time to just… just… think, and see you, and I don’t know. Why are you crying?”

To her credit, Dianne Woods did her best to not appear to be crying. She couldn’t really remember the last time she allowed herself to cry, and yet, when it started, she couldn’t stop it, even though she smiled through it. Her daughter just looked back at her, oddly confused at it and unsure of what she could do or had done.

“When you turned eight, I don’t know what happened. You just got quiet. It wasn’t that you weren’t naturally a quiet kid, I just remember thinking that you were different. Your brain worked different, and I failed because instead of trying harder, I just resigned myself to believing that you were just a quiet kid.”

“All I’ve had are expectations.”

“We expect a lot.” she nodded. “But I saw you with Clarke, and I just realized that I don’t know my own daughter. And that’s how I always felt my mother was, and I don’t want that, and I’m so sorry, Lexa.”

Once again, she was consumed in a hug, and Lexa missed telling her father because there was less hugging and crying. Significantly less, actually.

“We’re fine,” Lexa promised.

“I want to hear everything though. Start to finish.”

“We don’t have to–”

“Come on, just tell me a little,” Dianna smiled and tugged her daughter onto the couch, refusing to let her escape

With a huff, Lexa agreed only because her mother’s eyes were still glassy and it was something they both needed, no matter how much it hurt.

“She’s just so pretty and smart and funny. I can’t think straight near her. It’s exhausting to have a crush on someone. I once spilled my water bottle all over myself at practice because she was watching.”

“I’m sure she gets flustered too.”

“Never!”

Her mother wiped her cheeks again and smiled at the idea of her daughter being bashful near a pretty girl. Lexa gave in, telling her mother everything that happened over the past few months, and for a moment, finally talking about it made it real, and she felt a little more of herself move on from the weight of the past.

* * *

It was nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing different than what they’d already done a few times already. It was nothing.

Except it was something.

Lexa couldn’t escape that thought as she stood in front of her closet and stared at the clothes that hung there and couldn’t pick the right thing to wear. It was just a movie. It was just hanging out. It was just… everything.

Fall settled neatly outside. The leave fell and left skeletal arms and arthritic fingers for branches, naked and wobbling in the breeze and chill. Halloween decorations remained, despite being a good two weeks removed from the holiday, while it was too early for Christmas lights and festive cheer, leaving a limbo in the neighborhood.

It was getting closer to the end of the semester, and somehow, after just a few months at school, Lexa managed a date with the most beautiful girl she’d ever dreamed possible. Things were different, and for some reason, she felt like she wasn’t stuck or heavy or different. For some reason, she felt normal. It wasn’t all Clarke’s fault or doing, but rather the things that went into Clarke, that helped with everything else. Her parents knew. They talked now, and had dinner, and they listened a bit better than before. It was almost like they’d all pressed paused on their lives, and were slowly starting again, renewed, but not restored.

Without moving at all, Lexa dialed her sister and waited impatiently for her to pick up so that she could full begin her complete and total freak out before her da–

“Six rings is excessive. You always have your phone on you,” Lexa muttered, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Hello, Lexa,” Anya chirped. “How are you doing?”

“What do you wear on a date?”

The clothes taunted her while the clock made her anxious. Every second ticked closer to the date, and she was falling behind quite swiftly.

“Wear what you’d normally wear.”

“I think she likes me platonically, but I want her to like me romantically. I can’t wear friendly clothes. I have to wear date clothes. I don’t own any date clothes.”

“Well, what are you going to do on this date?” Anya grinned to herself, trying not to be too amused at her sister’s troubles. “That should narrow things down a little.”

“Going to see a movie.”

“Ah.”

“What does that mean?” Lexa furrowed and crossed her arm over her stomach as she stared at her clothes without seeing them.

“Nothing, nothing. Just wear something you’ll feel comfortable in, but something she’ll know means you want to kiss her.”

“That’s why I’m calling you!”

“Alright, alright,” she tutted. “Wear those black jeans and that cute sweater, with your boots. It’s casual and comfortable, but you look good in those pants.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do you think maybe you’re projecting your worries on your clothes?”

“Yeah, no shit I am,” Lexa grunted as she tugged the items out of her closet and set about putting them on. Arms halfway in her sleeves, she heard the commotion downstairs to indicate someone was at the door, and she panicked. “Fuck, she’s here.”

“Hey, just be yourself. She’ll like–”

“Thanks, Anya,” she interrupted and tossed her phone on the bed as she continued to tug clothes on completely.

Despite the hurry, as soon as she slipped on her boots and stopped in front of the mirror before leaving her room, Lexa took a moment to stare at herself, to really give herself a look. Anya was right, of course, and she’d tell her as much if she survived the night. But Lexa just adjusted her glasses and tried to take a deep breath though it wasn’t easy. She gave herself a once over and tried to fix her hair until she wasn’t sure how she even looked anymore.

She was going on her first official date with Clarke Griffin, and there was no going back.

With that finality, she finally made her way toward the stairs, ready to face it head on, or at least as best she could. It might have been easier if she hadn’t had such a crush and then become friends. But that only made it worse. There was no way she’d be able–

“Wow,” Lexa gulped as she found Clarke standing in the foyer, talking to her parents like old friends. She earned a smile and equally appraising eyes. “You look great. Amazing. Really good.”

“Same to you,” Clarke smiled, assuring Lexa that things were alright. It had that effect, while simultaneously making her palms sweat and her shoulders shiver.

The cheerleader knew what to wear on a date. Lexa was fairly certain she didn’t have to call someone to help them pick out something simple like a sweater. There was no way Clarke didn’t already just know how to do those things, and there’s no way she looked that amazing on accident.

Lexa liked Clarke’s lips, now darker red. She liked her eyes. She liked her skirt and jacket and she liked her smile. She spent too long liking those things and not saying anything though, as her father soon let her know with a gentle clearing of his throat.

“We’re going to a movie,” she finally said. “I’ll be home around midnight.”

“You have school tomorrow.”

“That’s my fault,” Clarke offered. “I worked yesterday and cancelled last week.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lexa promised. “I’ll see you later.”

“No later than twelve,” her mother interjected.

Lexa nudged Clarke toward the door.

“Love you, bye,” she nodded.

From the living room, her father gave her a big smile and a thumbs up, making her blush. Quickly, she shut the door and took a deep breath, grateful for the chill in the evening and the fact that Clarke couldn’t see her mortified frown in the dark. Instead, Clarke just sighed and smiled.

“Shall we start this, officially?” Clarke began.

“Please.”

* * *

The movie theater was almost empty. Sunday was particularly slow, but still, Lexa was anxious with the enormity of the first date. Her own nerves betrayed themselves in every movement, despite the fact that they’d hung out together. They’d kissed already. It shouldn’t have been so terrible.

“You’re quiet,” Clarke murmured after they settled in their seats.

The auditorium had a few other people in it, but they were alone for a good radius. Lexa bit the straw to the drink they’d share and offered a shy smile.

“I guess I’m still kind of just waiting to say the wrong thing,” she shrugged. “I don’t want to do that.”

“And what might you say that would be wrong?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t want to find out.”

Whatever it was, Clarke chuckled and shook her head before leaning deeper into the chair, putting her feet up on the one in front of her as she prepared for the feature presentation. She lulled her head to the side and stared at Lexa.

“I am very happy to be here with you. Thanks for waiting around for me,” Clarke offered. “You are really amazing, just so you know.”

“I don’t know about that,” Lexa blushed and cleared her throat.

“I do. Now tell me everything I need to know about this movie.”

That was easy enough, and Lexa began talking until her words and blurred together. They chatted easily, and for some reason, she just had a little confidence. Perhaps it was the topic, perhaps it was the person, perhaps it was the little part of her that actually believed Clarke liked here that sometimes grew and flashed and told her to try.

It didn’t so much matter why, just that Clarke felt a certain peace in the movie theater with the girl who fixed her car and had a head full of flyaways after soccer practice.

About fifteen minutes into the movie, Lexa took a sip of their drink and after returning it, felt Clarke slip her own hand into her’s. She squeezed, just to make sure it was real, and sure enough, Clarke was holding her hand. On purpose.

She couldn’t remember much else from the film.

* * *

There was still time after the movie, and Lexa was not interested in going home just yet. She didn’t want to ever go home. She didn’t want school to come, and she didn’t want things to change. She just wanted this.

“It’s a little cold for ice cream,” Lexa murmured as she shivered and sat on the edge of Clarke’s tailgate, furrowing at her cone that still dripped despite the chill in the autumn air.

“But it’s so good,” Clarke disagreed with a slight pout. “Plus, I like fresh air whenever I get a chance, and I’m sick of Oscar’s food. Our ice cream isn’t this good.”

“I kind of like it.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want to risk a future date.”

“No risk in that,” she mumbled before licking her ice cream. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine. My mom says my stubborness will keep me toasty.”

Despite her words, Clarke shivered again, and Lexa slid closer to her, without thinking about it, without meaning to at all. Instead, she just got some body heat.

“I can help with keeping warm, too,” Lexa offered, obliviously eating her cone.

It was those moments, those acts and words that left Clarke absolutely flabbergasted. How could someone so absolutely dense and daft be smooth without trying, and a complete nerd about everything else the rest? Mathematically it didn’t make sense, and either Lexa was a complete genius, or really was oblivious. Clarke knew it was the latter, but still questioned it at times.

“You’re not fooling anyone, Woods,” Clarke accused before returning to her snack.

“Huh?”

“Want to trade?”

“What?” Lexa furrowed again.

“I want to try yours. We should swap. We get 2 flavors then,” Clarke explained rationally.

Lexa eyed her date and smiled because naturally she would think of things like that. Without any hesitation, she handed over her cone and accepted Clarke’s, earning a smile.

* * *

The porch light was still on when they pulled back into Lexa’s driveway. The house was mostly dark save for some lamp in the living room, which didn’t tell anyone if there were people waiting up inside, but Lexa didn’t want to risk it, and neither did Clarke. So they sat there in the truck and knew that it was over, just not how to end it.

“I had a really good time tonight,” Lexa finally tried, running her hands over her thighs a few times to work up some courage. “We should go out again?”

“We definitely should. Another official date. And maybe hang out more in between?” Clarke offered, with her own level of insecurity wafting in despite her best efforts.

“Oh yeah, definitely. I’d like that. Of course. Yes. Yes, we should.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Clarke fiddled with the steering wheel before looking over at her date and seeing some of the stress slide away from her jaw and cheeks, no longer holding it in so tightly, but rather relaxing into their date and the reciprocated feelings.

“What was your favorite part of the date?” Lexa asked.

“I quite liked the part where you offered to keep me warm. It’s weird, but it was just this nice, good, honest moment that I don’t think you knew you did.” Clarke ducked her head and remembered it. “I think it says a lot about you as a person.”

“I liked the movie.”

Clarke laughed this time and Lexa felt her mouth pull into a smile, though confused.

“That was your favorite part?” she complained half-heartedly. “I took you for ice cream. My secret ice cream spot. And held our hand.”

“It was a really good movie,” she shrugged. “And the other stuff was great too. But my favorite part hasn’t happened yet.”

“Oh?”

“We were sitting in a similar position when you kissed me. I really want to kiss you. That’ll be my favorite part, but we don’t have to, and it still would be the best date of my life. The only one, actually,” Lexa rambled. “But also, I don’t need that. I just was kind of looking forward to it, but it doesn’t matter. The whole date was the best par–”

Clarke made her be quiet the only way she knew how, and that was to kiss Lexa once again. This one took a bit of adjusting, but Clarke slid across the seat a bit and she waited for Lexa to stop talking, but she did it. She kissed her and she felt her heart skip.

It was a good kiss. Hell, it was a great kiss. It was the best kiss, and it did nothing to make Lexa calm down at all. Instead, she grew so excited, it felt like her brain was going to overheat and her lungs were impossible to inflate.

“I just. Hold on,” Lexa mumbled as she pulled away. “I just need a second.”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke hurried. “I didn’t mean–”

“No, no that was. Yeah, that was perfect. Great. That was amazing. I just… it was too amazing. I need to come back.”

“Too advanced flirting?”

“Just right,” she corrected. “I just… wow.”

“I’m thinking that we kiss more, like, in general,” Clarke decided, offering the proposition with a manner of business-like confidence. “Not just tonight.”

“You want to kiss me more?”

“I want to kiss you all of the time.”

“Oh,” Lexa nodded to herself and chanced a look at the flushed face of the prettiest cheerleader that she’d ever seen. “We can do that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Great date,” Clarke grinned and leaned forward slightly, needing Lexa to meet her part of the way.

For a long time, they kissed. Lexa felt hands move to her side and her hip and her neck and she didn’t want to ever stop the kissing part. A few times, the ad that popped up in front of her hair was the simple fact that she was making out with Clarke Griffin. That was a fact that kept her very confused and happy.

“You should go inside,” Clarke finally interrupted the kissing to bring back the real world. “I think your parents like me, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“But I like this too much,” Lexa disagreed and pushed forward to kiss Clarke back. She felt her hand slip lower on her date’s chest and she wanted to see how far she was going to be allowed to go.

“You have to.”

“Fine.”

“We can date, though. You know? Dating. We’re dating. If you want.”

“I want,” Lexa nodded quickly. “I want it a lot.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“Great,” Clarke nodded and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

“Great date,” Lexa decided once again to herself as she slid out of the cab of the truck. “Great date.”

From the driver’ seat in the old truck, Clarke watched her date climb the steps and make her way inside. She couldn’t stop smiling, but as soon as Lexa was out of sight, Clarke leaned her forehead against the steering wheel and said a tiny prayer, that this goodness would stick.


	7. Chapter 7

The trees were just a shade away from naked. The limbs, covered in a sporadic smattering of yellow and red and orange and brown, were nothing my knotted, bony sticks, waiting for a final chill or gust of late November bluster to leave them bare for the winter. Dark grey and just tinged in the spots of stubborn color, the trees all blurred past in a cloud of indistinguishable individual pieces.

The car crept along through the holiday traffic, weaving its way up the highway and the rest of the families on their way to pick up a loved one. As much as Lexa hated driving, the idea of having to wait to see her sister was entirely unappetizing. And thus she found herself gripping the wheel and clenching her jaw as she made her way to the airport.

Naturally, her overeagerness to see her sister meant Lexa arrived much too early, and she found herself staring at the Arrivals board for a familiar flight and helplessly checking her watch. Begrudgingly she finally took a spot leaning against a window as she scrolled through her phone for a little while before she realized she was staring at a picture that Clarke had posted of the two of them together on their date, with pink cheeks from the cold and big cones of ice cream near their smiles.

She went on a date with Clarke Griffin and survived it and it was great and the past week and a half had been magic. She was fluttering high on the season and the feeling of kissing a cheerleader and holding her hand, whilst being simultaneously crushed by the realization that she had a major crush on Clarke and perhaps she felt the same way. What the hell did that mean and what came next?

School started three months before, and Lexa felt different. She never really thought of change because nothing ever changed. And after Aden, things just kind of fell into this rhythm, this depressing, predictable droning monotony. But then Anya left, and then Clarke gave Lexa a Cherry Coke, and everything was upside down.

But Lexa smiled and blushed when she looked at the picture, and when she thought about Clarke’s fingers on her neck, toying her her hair and the weight of her eyes and that felt good.

“Lexa!”

She shoved her phone in her pocket and felt her heart grow light.

Still tall and beautiful and effortlessly cool, her older sister appeared and grinned before dropping her bag and swallowed her up into a hug. Before she could do anything, Lexa found her arms contracting and holding tightly to her sister, tighter than she imagined, tighter than she meant to, relieved to have her back, even for just a few days, even if she had to share her. It didn’t matter. For a little while, all of the change could be backed up and things could be normal.

“Wow, I didn’t expect this kind of welcome,” Anya teased, unable to pull away from her sister’s grip for a few extra seconds. She could feel Lexa’s tension dissipate. “I missed you too.”

“I’m so glad you’re home.”

“I can tell.”

“But will you drive? I hate it.”

All she could do was smile and roll her eyes because things never changed at home, even after being gone for three months. She held her hand out for the keys, which Lexa eagerly handed over, and helped pick up her other bag.

They made it approximately to the highway before Lexa remembered what not being an only child felt like and regretted her gratefulness in having a sibling back in the picture.

“So how’s everything going?”

“Good,” Lexa shrugged, relaxing in the passenger seat. “I quit government and joined A/V club. We’re making a hype video for basketball now.”

“Hm. Interesting. And how’re the projects with Luna coming?”

“Alright,” she shrugged again. “We did this horror movie at a cabin and just editing it.”

“Do I get to see some?”

“If you want.”

“Mom still busy?”

“She’s good. I think she kind of came back, if that makes sense? I don’t know,” she shrugged again and again and again. “She cooked dinner twice last week.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah, and she went to see a movie with me a few days ago.”

“Wow,” Anya furrowed at the new information as she scanned the roads in front of their car. “I’m glad though.”

It wasn’t that their mother was uncaring or even disinterested, just that she lost a child, a child that she bore and loved and hugged and yelled at, and kissed, and healed, and sang to sleep, and sometimes people just didn’t know what to do when a part of themselves disappeared forever. There was no going back to being the person before, and there was no moving forward, and so their mother closed her eyes and disappeared completely, as if shielding herself from a feather’s weight of pain.

“And Dad started coming home early sometimes, to help me on the car.”

“You’re working on the car?”

The information was surprising. Anya hadn’t thought about the almost finished shell of her car that sat in the graveyard of the garage. She certainly hadn’t expected her father to come home early. He hadn’t in years. He was even late to her own graduation.

After Aden, Lexa refused to look at the cars. She wouldn’t even go into the garage, instead electing to meet everyone in the driveway. It was maddening, and yet apparently things changed, though Anya had trouble grappling with it. None of it computed.

“The bus smells like stale throw up,” Lexa shrugged, her shoulders getting a workout as she tried to explain herself.

“And what’s the plan for tonight? Mom told me I could pick where we go eat.”

“We should go to that Thai place. The one with the pig wings and those noodles.”

“That does sound good,” her sister agreed. “We’ll have to save room. I promised Gus I’d meet him for lunch.”

“Seriously? You can’t put him out of his misery?” Lexa groaned and let her head fall back against the seat in defeat. “He is just finally getting over his crush on you.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Do you want to come, or am I dropping you off at home?” Anya smiled, despite herself at her sister’s knowing look.

The cars and the trees and the branches and the leaves, they all blurred outside and Lexa was grateful for how familiar it all felt. Her sister, driving her around, asking her too many questions to answer, the tinge of dirt in the air, the feeling of the heat blowing through the vents, the weight of her old coat and the pilling inside the sleeves from its years of shielding her. The world was aligned.

“I’ve got some leftover French homework to finish. But you can bring me leftovers, if you want. Where are you going?”

“Oscars.”

The blood drained from Lexa’s face and she felt her eyes grow with the news. Her mouth went dry.

“Um, Oscar’s? Like the diner on Fifth?” Her voice betrayed the worry, though she attempted nonchalant valiantly.

“I think Gus is just nostalgic. We used to go there after games and grab a bite.”

“Alright, yeah, cool, sure, okay, yeah,” Lexa nodded, faster and faster with each word. “I could eat. I’m starving.”

“Awesome. I don’t have to double back then,” Anya smiled and adjusted the radio.

Lexa feigned a grin and went back to this growing pit in her stomach that was her sister being in the same building as Clarke, with Gus there, to add his commentary. And all at once it made sense. Her sister kept tab on her, and she knew where Clarke worked, and Gus was a double agent, and as soon as the panic began to fade, a different kind of nerve worked its way through her muscles.

But it felt weird. And Lexa wasn’t sure why, except that she wasn’t sure what to do.

And so she sighed and slunk deeper into the seat.

* * *

“You look great,” Gus grinned and hugged Anya.

Anxiously, Lexa looked around the diner and fiddled with the edge of the sleeve of her sweater because she had to do something with her hands to keep her brain from devoting all efforts to freaking out.

Her sister and tutee exchanged pleasantries and sat down in a familiar booth, excited to see each other again, to confirm that old feelings were just that, while she tagged along and held her breath because if Anya met Clarke, then it could all be real, and if it was real, it could end.

When she woke up this morning, Lexa hadn’t thought about her sister meeting Clarke, but now she was confronted with this feeling of fear, that maybe things were going so well and this would change it. She wasn’t sure how or why. But Anya might have an opinion, and then she might think differently about her feelings for Clarke. Or Anya might point something out, or she might confirm Lexa’s worst fears, that Clarke really was too good for her, and then what? Where would that knowledge leave her? Because her sister wouldn’t lie to her, and if she knew the truth, then–

“Hey guys, sorry it took me a minute. We’re a bit busy,” Clarke greeted the table and all thoughts disappeared from Lexa’s brain. She just gaped back at the waitress. “Hey.” She earned her own smile and greeting.

“Hi,” Lexa managed, blushing despite herself. “Sorry, hey. Yes. Clarke, this is my sister. She’s home for Thanksgiving break. Anya, this is Clarke, my– um. Friend. Clarke.”

“We’ve met a few times before in passing I think. But it’s nice to officially meet you. Did you just fly in?”

“Just arrived,” Anya nodded. “Lexa didn’t tell me you worked here.”

“But she talked about me?” Clarke teased.

“What? No, not like– just–” Lexa tried.

“Just the basics.”

“Good. I’m honored,” the waitress smiled. “Can I get you guys something?”

Thankfully, they ordered without incident, and Lexa accepted a drink on Clarke’s second visit. Her friend and her sister waited until the blonde disappeared again to bring anything up, immediately asking questions they already almost knew the answers to, and Lexa did her best to not feel like her heart was pounding through her throat.

Anya waited until the food came and after spending the entire meal watching her sister try not to look at Clarke. She changed the subject to catching up with her old prom date and tried to help the blush Lexa couldn’t seem to get rid of just yet, no matter how calm she was. It was adorable, in this innocent, genuine kind of way, and as much as Anya liked her sister coming out of her shell, the potential pain made her nervous.

But to her credit, the waitress would sneak looks at the table almost as much. And when she stopped by to check on them, she leaned closer to Lexa, smiling at her and blushing slightly as well. If she wasn’t mistaken, then she would have guessed that they both were quite serious about the other.

“I’ll meet you in the car,” Anya offered as they finished lunch and it grew later. “Walk me out, Gus.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll just say bye,” Lexa swallowed.

“You should invite Clarke over or something.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged, earning a groan as her sister shook her head.

Just outside of the car, Anya leaned against it and watched her sister through the window as Gus stood beside her. She hadn’t come to embarrass her sister, just to see it in action. She’d heard so much from Gus about how Lexa had come out of her shell, and she needed the proof, and sure enough, there it was, right in front of her.

Nervously, Lexa toyed with a straw wrapper and waited for the waitress to make her round. She stacked everything neatly, cleaning as best she could.

“She’s got it bad,” Anya sighed.

“Clarke’s good people,” Gus promised.

“I know how happy she is about this,” the big sister nodded, “but for me that just means she can get hurt even harder.”

“Lexa isn’t your shadow anymore. She’s her own person. She’s… she’s different.”

“And I’m glad, I’m just nervous. Clarke could break her heart.”

The two overprotective siblings stood outside and watched the waitress in question approached and smiled. They shook their heads when, as a result, Lexa spilled a cup of ice and hurried to rectify it, making Clarke laugh and smile. The two inside spoke for a bit before Lexa nodded and accepted a hug that lasted a bit longer than polite.

“I don’t know,” Gus sighed. “The Woods girls are quite the heartbreakers in their own rite.”

Before Anya could respond, her sister joined them in the crisp autumn air, her cheeks and nose already pinker than normal. But Gus was right, that there was something different there, in how she carried herself, in how she smiled, in the carefreeness that had been missing for so long, her sister almost didn’t recognize it.

Anya put her arm over her sister’s shoulder.

“Let’s head home, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded.

* * *

Unlike previous years, the Thanksgiving feast was homemade and contained the entire family for the entire day. The house burst with the smells of dinner and the warmth of the oven and stove working in double overtime, something they were not explicitly accustomed to anymore.

Anya barely recognized her parents. Her room remained untouched and exactly as she left it, but the house was different. Music bubbled up from the garage as her father and sister worked on finishing her car. Files were left on the desk in the study, her mother’s briefcase not as full as it normally was, slumbered quietly and undisturbed on a chair while the giant old recipe book got another layer of flour on the counter.

From her spot on the stool, Anya flipped through a magazine and watched her mother smear a bit of the white powder across her forehead as she fought with some pie crust. Her parents were always attentive and did their best, but they were broken. Little bits of life came back to them though, and she couldn’t figure out how.

“Lexa said she’s been working on the cars with Dad the past month,” Anya observed. Her mother smiled to herself as she muscled the dough flat and circular.

“They have. It’s been nice.”

“Clarke’s coming by later tonight. Watch a movie.”

“I like Clarke,” she decided, surveying her baking. “She’s a sweetheart.”

“Lex said you two have been supportive. Too supportive, but still.” She earned a smile.

For a moment, the epitome of hardworking, the idol when it came to most of her life, the beautiful, the talented, the brilliant, the passionate woman who Anya was afraid she didn’t look enough alike, she stood there and looked like she felt the weight of the past.

“I used to know you,” her mother said, pausing her ministrations of the dough. “I used to know my kids, and then I woke up and you were strangers, and that’s my fault. That’s our fault. I hope one day you don’t feel that. You should always know parts of your kids, how they’re feeling, who they are– before even they do. And I didn’t.”

Anya met her mother’s eyes and felt how heavy they were with how honest they’d become. It felt ancient and it felt like it was pulling back from the past all of the memories she once had but never seemed to allow herself to remember.

“I love you both so much. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have–”

“I do. And I am,” she interrupted quickly. “So I’m going to be very supportive, because ever since Clarke, Lexa’s been different. She’s happy. She’s alive, and I love that.”

“She’s definitely different,” Anya nodded.

Dianne smile and went back to rolling her dough, busying herself to avoid the truth in her confession. But it was hard, and this was necessary.

“Aden took up so much of our hearts and time. And Lexa….” she shook her head and moved the crust to the pan. “Lexa has always been different. But you’ve always been strong, and you’ve always been so independent.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal. It’s huge. And I know you are also keeping an eye on your sister. But how are you?”

“I’m good.”

“I mean really,” her mother persisted, giving her a glance over the filling as she slathered it into the dish.

“I’m actually good. School is okay, and I was worried about leaving, but Lex seems to be okay, and you and Dad are… well, almost normal.”

Her mother chuckled at the description before pausing to take a sip from her glass of wine that was ever ready on the holiday preparation line.

“Are we really being too supportive?” she grinned.

“I made Lexa get lunch at the Diner where Clarke works. I think her head about exploded.”

“See! So it’s not just us!” her mother clapped her hands together victoriously. “You’re just as curious.”

“Maybe just tone back the sex talks.”

“I had to do research. I wanted her to be prepared. Just because she can’t get pregnant doesn’t mean she still can’t be safe.”

“I don’t know. I saw them together, and I don’t think Lexa can even hold her hand without dying.”

“True. She’s a mess around that girl,” her mother laughed, and Anya realized it might have been the first time she’d hear it in a long, long time. “She reminds me of your father, honestly. You were much more like me. Cool and calm and adored.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. You dad was a fumbling mess,” she remembered. “Took him a few tries to ask me out properly. The first time he tried to kiss me, he nearly missed and his hands were all sweaty.”

“Wow. I never knew that.”

“But he was so earnest and kind and honest. I knew he liked me. Lots of people don’t want you to know how much they like you. He didn’t even try to hide it. I like that about him.”

“I think deep down, Lexa wears her heart on her sleeve, you just have to look for it.”

“That’s a good way to put it,” Dianne nodded and slid the bowl with a few more apples at the bottom across the counter to her daughter.

Sweet and sticky, Anya dug one out and crunched it while her mother worked on weaving a top crust for her perfect pie.

“Is it hard… to find someone like Dad?” she asked, her voice a little quieter. “I mean. Someone who treats you like that?”

“You’ll know it when it happens. Just because you’re naturally a little more reserved doesn’t mean you also can’t be very earnest and kind and honest. We have the luxury of not being absolute messes around our crush.”

“Thank God for that,” Anya exhaled.

“Now I’m curious. Tell me about this lunch you used to meet your sister’s crush.”

By the time Lexa and her father grew too hungry to pay too much attention to the tasks at hand in the garage, by the time the house was filled with the savory smell of dinner, they made their way upstairs to find the oldest and the mom laughing together in the kitchen. Lexa paused beside her father as Anya set the table and hung on her mother’s story.

“I was really hoping the turkey would be out,” her father sighed.

“Me too,” she nodded, hand migrating to her stomach as it rumbled in agreement.

* * *

It wasn’t that she was hovering, except that she definitely was within a few steps of the front door for the entire hour before Clarke was due to arrive, and everyone noticed. After the dishes were washed and dried and put away, after the bottle of wine disappeared between the parents, after the pie was raved about and everyone was content and settled on the couch lounging away the rest of the holiday, Lexa nervously texted Clarke.

“I’ll get it!” she hopped up instantly at the first chime.

In no time at all, Lexa found herself opening the door to a cute girl who had pink-tinted cheeks and her hands shoved deep in her jacket against the chill of late November.

“Hey,” she whispered.

“Hi.”

It was the holiday or the full stomach or any other reason, except Lexa couldn’t particularly pinpoint it. But she relaxed instantly as Clarke wrapped her arms around her neck and hugged her, bringing in the nip of autumn and making Lexa shiver.

“You look very pretty,” Lexa offered when Clarke pulled away and slid off her coat.

“And you look spectacular.”

“So. My room? I have the movie waiting. Do you want a snack or drink or anything first?”

“I don’t think I can eat another bite, but we can grab some drinks.”

“Okay, um, do you want to just head up, and I can meet you?”

“I’ll get lost in this place,” Clarke chuckled. “Lead away. I promise not to touch anything.”

The offer existed because they had to pass the living room if drinks were involved and Lexa wanted to avoid that at all costs, but knew it would be nearly impossible. Next time she’d have drinks waiting. She’d be prepared. This was her own fault. With a small, quick smile, she nodded and turned quickly toward the kitchen.

“Hey, Clarke, I thought that’d be you. Happy Thanksgiving, sweetheart,” the matriarch greeted the newest addition to the house.

“Good evening Mrs. Woods, Mr. Woods,” she smiled politely. “Hey, Anya. Thanks for having me over on the holiday. I know it’s family time.”

“No, no. No worries,” Mr. Woods called, barely adjusting himself from his lounging on one side of the huge sectional. “I heard it’s your only day off from work.”

“Yeah, Diner is closed for the day.”

“We’re just going to grab some drinks and then go watch a movie,” Lexa stopped the familiarity because she didn’t understand it.

“Clarke, we have leftover pie and turkey and everything if you’re still hungry,” Dianne offered.

“I am much too full, but thank you.”

“What are you going to watch?” Anya asked.

“Lexa was nice enough to agree to watch the new Thor movie.”

“Good choice for the holiday.”

“I was vetoed on my Christmas movie suggestions.”

“It’s too early,” Lexa shrugged and mumbled, earning a hand on her back from Clarke, soothing her soreness.

“Have fun guys,” the mom called. “Let me know if anyone changes their mind on more food. Please. We have too much.”

“Thank you,” Clarke smiled.

It took only a few minutes before arms were loaded with supplies and the two traversed the stairs and found Lexa’s room. The family could still be heard downstairs until they reached the room at the end of the hall where it seemed to be quieter.

“I’m glad you called me to hang out. I was going crazy with all of my family in town,” Clarke mentioned as she sat on Lexa’s bed and watched her move around the room.

The entire thing was spotless. It was organized, but it was lived in. A corner held a desk with two monitors and above it a shelf with some cameras and equipment. The walls were light, pale green and had old movie posters above the larger than necessary bed. A short couch sat beside a bookshelf that was packed with books and movies and a few pictures, while school stuff covered half of it. All around the place, there were little hints of Lexa, and Clarke understood a bit better.

“I’m glad you came over,” Lexa offered, relaxing visibly after escaping her family. “I have a soccer game tomorrow, if you wanted to come watch, too.”

“Well, look at you. Inviting me twice,” she teased. “I might have to ask you out this time.”

“That would be great. One less thing to worry about.”

Lexa fiddled with her computer before a projector illuminated the wall across from her bed. Clarke watched her move, watched the blush on her ears and smiled to herself. She didn’t know how to say what she wanted to say, but she knew it had to come out.

“One day, years and years and years from now. I might tease you about how nervous you were to be around me.”

“Years?”

“You never know, right?” Clarke smiled as she kicked off her shoes and settled into the bed.

For a moment, Lexa stopped moving and remained, bent over her desk and pondering the idea that maybe something like that could happen. And her heart started pumping maple syrup through her body, warm and sticky and nice and whole.

“I’m nervous around you because I like you and maybe one thing could just… one thing could make you disappear, and I wouldn’t like that.”

It was equally honest, and like a possum afraid of being eaten, Lexa remained completely still after the words came out. She didn’t look at Clarke. She didn’t press play. She just stared at the desk and gripped her mouse and waited.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Clarke promised. “And I like your nervousness. It’s kind of sweet.”

“Good, because I can’t change it.”

“No, but you can get more comfortable around me. Slowly.”

“I am,” she promised, finally looking over her shoulder at the blonde in her bed.

“Good. Now let’s watch, and I’ll ask you out before I leave.”

Lexa smiled to herself and clicked a few more things before turning out the light so that the movie was their only source. With a quick movement, she hopped over and climbed up toward the bed where Clarke sat.

“Since we aren’t at the movies, you can talk if you want,” Lexa offered.

“I didn’t talk too much last time.”

“It was a lot.”

“You’ll just have to get used to it.”

Somewhere between the talking, naturally, and the catching up about the holidays, the movie played and Clarke somehow settled to where she was half using Lexa’s stomach as a pillow. And for longer than she’d like to admit, Lexa hovered her hand near Clarke and didn’t know what to do. Until she finally made up her mind and played with a stray lock of blonde hair, twisting it around in her fingers.

Clarke sighed and adjusted closer, placing her hand on Lexa’s knee.

With all the heat radiating from that position, Lexa wasn’t sure what to do, but she sure as hell couldn’t focus on the movie. And for the first time in her life, she didn’t care.


	8. Chapter 8

Once again, the school was full of students again. The rain was intermittent and the chill in the air made everyone want to run inside despite the fact that they were running towards classes and teachers again. The stately brick building, ancient for its ninety or so years, half updated, and half reticent of a John Hughes movie, it welcomed the returning students for the second half the year.

The week and a half that Lexa spent with her family had been lovely and needed, though it came at quite an inopportune time. Normally, she would relish the chance to get out of town and travel, as her parents were always busy with work. But now they were trying and coming back to life, which meant a trip across the world to Iceland for the holidays. It meant, however, that Lexa was just getting somewhere with Clarke, just starting to feel comfortable, just starting to hope and feel and want, and going away was a pause on it.

Walking back into the halls and weaving her way toward her locker, Lexa felt weird, like time hadn’t passed there, but she was different. It was an eerie feeling she couldn’t quite place, but didn’t want to spend too much time trying. Instead, she twisted the dial on her locker and wondered if she’d see Clarke before lunch.

“Hey, stranger.”

Lexa smiled slightly as she finished digging her book out of her locker and turned to find a smiling girl with pretty blue eyes and a dimple on one cheek. Leaning against the locker next to Lexa’s, Clarke grinned and held her books, her bag slung on a shoulder, her hair perfectly wavy and dreamy.

For a moment, Lexa gulped again, though she was relieved.

She couldn’t really help it. Not when Clarke was there, in her baggy sweater, with barely any makeup and lips that did that.

“Hey. How are you?”

“I’m surviving. How was your trip?”

“Long,” Lexa sighed, closing her locker and leaning against it. “It was a lot of fun, but weird. We haven’t had a family vacation since Aden… Maybe we needed it.”

“Did you get lots of footage?”

“Yeah. I’m going to try to put it together for my parents.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Clarke promised, leaning near Lexa, their shoulders touching. “The pictures looked amazing. It made me almost want to hike a glacier.”

The adventurer just shrugged and shuffled her feet slightly. They’d texted nearly the entirety of winter break, and now, Lexa wasn’t sure how much of it still applied. It was a weird thing, to be able to text someone random thoughts and string together a conversation, but it was hard to figure out how to be the same in person.

“How about you? Good time with the family?”

“It actually wasn’t terrible.” The bell interrupted their reunion and Clarke grumbled slightly. “Walk me to class?”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Without thinking about it, Lexa held out her hand and reached for Clarke’s books. She looked at her arm and wondered how it happened, how it could betray and embarrass her like that, and more importantly, how she was going to recover from it.

The panic lasted just an instant though, because Clarke took Lexa’s hand and held it in her own, not thinking twice about the action.

“You have track after school, don’t you?” Clarke asked, adjusting her hand slightly, tugging the hand a little and keeping it tight in her own.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to hang out after?”

“Um,” Lexa furrowed and went through a mental checklist, hoping that nothing would put up a red flag. She definitely wanted to hang out with Clarke, and she definitely wanted to keep holding her hand, even if that meant never going to class again. “I have a tutoring session with Gus. Getting ready for his SAT next month.”

“Okay, maybe another day.”

“After?”

“After tutoring?” Clarke asked, pausing in front of her classroom.

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be for long, but we could… I don’t know… Just hang out. Even for a little bit. That’d be nice.”

“It would.” Clarke waited for more, watching Lexa debate how to do it. “Or we could hang out now.”

“Now?” Lexa cocked her head, confused but still smiling.

Clarke looked around at the hall as it began to clear before the second bell. She tugged on Lexa’s hand and met some resistance. No one else really noticed that they were lingering. Everyone was still feeling a certain freedom, or loss of it, as the winter break ended and the grind began again.

“Just one time.”

“I have calculus,” she furrowed.

“Haven’t you ever skipped before?” Naturally, Clarke was met with a shake of a head and a look of moderate panic. “Do you want to skip once in your life?”

“I’ve never thought about it.”

“You’ve got about a minute to decide.”

“Can we do that?” Lexa wondered. “Just leave?”

“It’s the first day back. You know we’re not going to go over anything important.”

“Are you actually serious?”

“Yeah. I could use a day off.”

“We just had like twelve days.”

“I spent most of them with family and hanging out with my dad or working. I’m kind of over taking care of people and paying attention.”

Clarke said things like that so succinctly, so purposefully, that it reminded Lea of the words she’d read once that said something about being brave and quiet, so that no one else sees or realizes you’re suffering. No one would guess Clarke suffered so much under such heavy burdens. No one would guess that she had them to begin with, and Lexa was learning Clarke liked it that way, to keep things to herself.

But she caught herself saying those things, and Clarke cleared her throat and put her hand on her hip, taunting and waiting.

“I have to be back in time for practice,” Lexa finally gave in.

“You won’t regret it,” Clarke squealed and kissed Lexa’s cheek before tugging her toward the door as the bell rang again and the halls were completely empty.

* * *

“I hate the mall,” Lexa grimaced as she hopped out of Clarke’s truck and stared up at the monstrosity that was the Edgewood Mall.

Two towns over from their school and everything familiar, Lexa only knew the rival area because of track meets or soccer games, and once, an academic decathlon tournament, though she never left the hotel or the school. There wasn’t much in the sleepy suburb, but it had the benefit of being forty five minutes away from any adult that would notice them.

“Yes, but do you hate it when it’s empty on a Monday?”

“I don’t know. Probably.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and grabbed Lexa’s hand again, tugging her along once again into the great unknown. The clouds trudged along while the rain stopped, but neither pulled down their hoods until they made it inside.

“Have I steered you wrong yet?”

“Not yet.”

“So trust me.”

There wasn’t really an option to it, and in all fairness, Lexa did trust Clarke. She just wanted to spend time near her because near her, time seemed to stop stressing her out, and the minutes were just… happier.

And so Lexa followed, still vaguely aware that she should technically be leaving first period and heading to Physics. Instead, she felt Clarke’s hand and pulled down her hood as they walked into the near empty mall.

“What are we going to do first?” Lexa wondered out loud.

“I have decided to dress you.”

“You don’t like how I dress?”

For a second, Lexa paused and looked down at her coat, and beneath that, the simple shirt and jeans she was wearing. It did the job, and it kept her dressed. She never really considered clothes often.

“I do. I’ve just kind of always wanted to see you in a few different outfits.”

“No funny business, Griffin.”

“Scouts honor,” Clarke promised.

The joy was contagious, as much as she wanted to resist, Lexa followed into a store and held out her arms as new items were added to them. When she asked Clarke if this was her idea of a good time, she got a smile and shrug, and she decided this was what she had to do now. To her credit, Clarke mulled over everything she picked, carefully pairing together things, continually shuffling Lexa’s arms, occasionally standing closer.

At least once, Lexa looked down at Clarke and smiled, distracted by the way her eyes looked, and how she bit her lip when she debated a choice. Lexa liked the debating part. She liked the lip part too. She liked the biting part even more for some reason.

The first few outfits were met with excitement. And to her own credit, Lexa found it to be tolerable because she got to see Clarke light up and fret over her, adjusting her clothes and smiling at the results.

The fourth outfit though.

“This is what you like?” Lexa furrowed, tugging at the collar of the shirt, buttoned the whole way up to her chin.

“I have a thing for well put together types.”

“I kind of like it.”

The part that Lexa missed, while she looked at herself in the mirror and adjusted the roll of the sleeves, was the look Clarke gave her from her spot in a chair, happy to watch the spinning and enjoyment on Lexa’s face.

“You look good.”

“Yeah?” Lexa asked, oddly hopeful.

“You always look good.”

“Yeah?”

“Like you don’t know how cute you are,” Clarke scoffed.

“I don’t– um… well. Sometimes I– I mean I don’t usually think about it.”

With a final look at herself in the mirror, Lexa blushed and went to tug on her old clothes in the dressing room, making a note of what she might like to wear in the future.

“That was way more fun than even I anticipated,” Clarke held out her hand as Lexa walked out of the dressing room. “Next up, date number two.”

“We’re having multiple dates in one day?”

“Definitely.”

* * *

At eleven in the morning, the selection of movies wasn’t the best. Just beginning to show within the hour, Lexa agonized over which of her two options would be the best before finally deciding on a cartoon feature meant for much younger audiences. But it felt like a good choice because she liked the director and thought it was going to be absolutely beautiful.

“I don’t think this is a very balanced diet you’ve got here,” Clarke chided as she stole a twizzler from the pack in Lexa’s lap as they lazed on the mildly uncomfortable chairs.

“You have to have snacks for a movie.”

They settled fairly close, smiling and happy and alone, so very alone in the movie that they hoped no one else might show up. Lexa wasn’t sure what to do, and so she was grateful for the candy and the quiet. Clarke was just too cute and too nice, and she smelled good. Lexa always forgot how she smelled. And how warm she felt. And that little crackling feeling deep in her own chest when Clarke laughed and was close. Lexa forgot these things until they were back.

Clarke slid her arm around Lexa’s bicep and sighed with her cheek on her shoulder.

“You’re like an escape, you know?” Clarke whispered. “Thank you for ditching with me today. I promise I won’t make a habit of it.”

“Are you okay? I mean… with everything?”

“I am.”

“Are you sure?”

“Not really.”

Lexa couldn’t help but smile at the honesty. It was the charm Clarke had to her, that she just said things, she was in the moment. And each moment was occupied by this constant dialectical problem, where she really was happy, and she really was sad, and she really was all of it, blown back and forth by a breeze and whatever thoughts her brain decided to pick up.

“It’s all going to be okay,” Lexa offered, feeling as if she had to say, as if she had something that Clarke needed. Rarely were those words actually comforting, but she wanted to try, and she wasn’t sure how they came out of her mouth.

“I don’t know about that.”

“Yeah, but you still just kind of have to live anyway.”

“My dad isn’t getting any better. It was a long break,” Clarke confessed. “And now SATs and work and school. It’s just a lot.”

“Yeah. It’s always a lot.”

“I like this though,” she smiled, referencing them together.

“Not to be, you know, that person, but, um. What exactly are we?”

“You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“I don’t like to assume.”

Lexa felt her heart beating very quickly. Her palms felt sweaty and she wiped them against the thigh of her pants. She just wanted to look like she wasn’t dreading the answer. She didn’t want to think it was all in her head.

“For a genius, you’re kind of dumb.”

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded earnestly. “I get that a lot.”

“What do you think we should be?”

“Um, friends, friends that— kiss?” she attempted before really thinking about it. “I don’t know how to do this. I guess I just kind of want to be on your team, if that makes sense. Kiss and root for you.”

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

“Okay, cool.”

Somehow Lexa let herself look at Clarke. It was a mistake because she was so pretty, and the lights were just starting to dim in time for the movie to start. It might have only been the second time Lexa leaned forward first, but she did, turning her body slightly. She really liked the kissing part.

Clarke tasted better than she smelled and she smelled so good. Gentle and warm, her lips moved against Lexa’s, and both forgot how to breathe. It didn’t matter that the noise from the previews started. It didn’t matter that they were the only ones, minus the usher who walked in to do a count and paused for a moment before hurrying back down the ramp.

“You and me, huh?” Clarke finally whispered when they separated.

Lexa just smiled and nodded, her cheeks painfully pink and her heart all but stopping completely.

* * *

“I promise, it’ll be well worth it,” Clarke swore, tugging Lexa toward the old truck that waited in the parking lot.

“I’m sure it will be, but I have to run very far today and ice cream isn’t the best pre-practice snack,” Lexa complained half-heartedly.

“You’re a pre practice snack.”

“Is this still flirting? Does this still happen?”

“Oh yeah,” Clarke nodded standing very close, pressing her girlfriend against her truck. “All of the time. If anything even more often.”

“Fantastic,” Lexa beamed.

The rain was just a drizzle, but the chill had somewhat worn off. While they should have been in sixth period, instead they were fresh out of a day bumming around the mall, locked away from the real world. Clarke leaned up and kissed Lexa’s smile because it was there and because she could.

“Will you just tell me how to do all of this?”

“All of what?” Clarke smiled.

“Dating.”

Sheepishly, Lexa gulped before looking at Clarke’s lips again and then back to her eyes. Both were incredibly difficult things to face.

“It’s not that hard. You’re doing great. But you’d do even better if you bought me my favorite ice cream.”

“Fine, but I’m only getting a little bit.”

“You say that now, until you try it.”

With another innocent kiss, Clarke pushed forward and freed herself before hopping into the cab of her truck.

Winter break had been a lot for her to handle. It’d been a lot of her mother, and it’d been a lot of her father. She worked just to get away from the misery and the nagging thought that it might have been the last holiday together as a family. Clarke decided she needed something good, and she needed to escape. Lexa was both of those things and more. She was real and honest, and she didn’t sugar coat anything. She said what she thought and she did what she wanted.

Most importantly, however, Lexa was normal, and she was the vacation Clarke allowed herself from real life, even if it was in tiny doses at a a time.

“I definitely liked making out in the movie,” Lexa decided as she put on her seatbelt.

“Me too.”

“Cool.”

“But I’m guessing I wouldn’t be too successful if it were a movie you wanted to watch.”

Again, Lexa blushed slightly, the tips of her ears growing red as she tucked stray hair behind them.

“Maybe,” she shrugged.

With just over an hour left in their freedom before Lexa was due back for practice and Clarke was due back for work, they drove toward ice cream and Clarke felt this ease about her. She wasn’t sure how, but she knew she made the right decision to put her chips down on Lexa Woods.

Clarke wasn’t sure what made her take a second look at the car across the lot from them as they pulled into the small mom and pop ice cream shop she’d grown up going to, nor was she certain how her brain put the pieces of information together.

“Okay, I might have lied,” Lexa decided. “I think I want rocky road.”

But Clarke didn’t move when they parked, but rather squinted at the familiar car and furrowed as her brain worked in overtime. Lexa said something about ice cream and running and how she was excited to tell her sister she ditched.

“Hey, you okay?”

Still, silence.

Lexa tried to follow Clarke’s glance and stared at the car.

“Clarke?”

She only half heard it. Instead, Clarke watched it happen, right there in the gas station parking lot across the street. Her mother got out of the car and Clarke hated that the windshield wiper did its job and put everything into clear viewing.

“What’s wrong?” Lexa tried again. “Who is that?”

Clarke just watched as the women she knew for her entire life got out of her car and hugged the man who got out of the passenger side. Up until that moment, it was just a dread that existed deep in her gut; it was unconfirmed. And then the women, the stranger, she smiled, happy and big and in the middle of a laugh, and she kissed the vaguely familiar man.

“That’s my mother,” Clarke muttered through grit teeth.

Unsure of what to do and the fact that this was very bad, Lexa looked between the mother and the daughter a few times before attempting to see some kind of resemblance.

“Oh.”

“I just wanted ice cream.”

Neither moved, neither breathed, it felt like. Instead, they watched the display of giddy love happening between Clarke’s mother and a man that was distinctly not her father. Clarke sat in the driver’s seat even more defeated than normal. Nothing made sense, because she was certain there was no way her life could get worse, and then the universe decided to put a little more shit on top.

Lexa shifted only to take Clarke’s hand in her own and hold it there while the clandestine lovers said their goodbyes.

“It’s going to be okay,” Lexa whispered.

“How?”

There wasn’t an answer to be had.


End file.
